Quicksilver
by angatd1
Summary: Thanos decides on a circular path of vengeance to teach the failed king that there is more to lose than a life. But what does the god of mischief and treachery care for one mortal life? Or is Loki the target at all… All characters featured, and an OC who I hope is tolerable. No non-canon pairings.
1. Sentencing

_This story will contain an OC and torture. It will __**not**__ include: OC pairing, Loki being tortured into a quivering mass of pleading, or (hopefully) characters acting out of character. This is based exclusively on movieverse (and comicverse), and I hope to feature brothers, family and friends._

_Let's begin!_

* * *

_So I held my head up high_  
_Hiding hate that burns inside_  
_Which only fuels their selfish pride_

The god of mischief stood in regal glory before the family who lied to him every day of his life. It was a relief now, to know why he had always struggled to keep himself a part of their happenings, their culture. Their world. Not his, nor ever his. Did they regret the All-Father's act of mercy so many years ago? Perhaps they had taken great pleasure in their own perverse kindness, to take on a son cast out by his own race and raise him as one of their own. Now they saw the fruits of that folly in color and life – and the deaths he had caused.

_Are you proud of what you chose, All-Father? Would you choose it again if you had the chance?_

They left both gag and chains in place, though this was not his trial. They did not want to hear his silver tongue lie or otherwise wound. Odin stared down at him with clenched jaw and sad eye. Thor had the same expression he'd worn on both the mountaintop and Stark's ridiculous tower. An expression of hope against hope. Would the man never learn a lost cause when he saw it laid bare?

He did not look into Frigga's eyes.

"Loki," the All-Father said, and then nothing more. The family stood as one, apart from him and close together. A unit finally free of the burdensome weight draped around all of their necks for so many years. Loki could only stare at them, robbed of the greatest weapon at his disposal. They knew better than to grant him the freedom of speech, lest they hear words designed to maim without striking a single blow.

The guards led him away to imprisonment beneath the grand castle. The cell to house him was sparse and spelled, almost glowing in his sights with the wards against him. His steps stuttered just once when he realized that entering the cell would dull his magical abilities to the point of uselessness. The guards did not notice, or if they did cared not. He was placed in the cell, and only then was the gag released from his mouth. The men departed after removing the metal contraption, and barred the windowless door to prevent sounds from escaping into the night. There was real danger to the realm if Loki were allowed to speak to others, even to the guards who stood outside his cell.

They'd left the chains as extra precaution. Loki smiled to know that he was viewed as such a threat, even among the people of Asgard.

There was a single item of furniture within the cell – a cot low to the floor. No thin blanket or pillow to erase the futility of life within a cell, but the cot was a luxury in a prison such as this. Loki checked the manacles with thorough care now that he was out of the perpetual stare of Thor and the All-Father. The bonds were sealed around all sides to his eye. He scoffed. Paltry magic for a master of sorcery – and yet he could not remove the shackles.

The door's complicated lock creaked and twisted to allow entry. The trickster stood, determined to meet any foe with a straight back and piercing glare. Though he did not receive the visitor expected, he maintained both in the face of her own serene gaze.

"Sit, my son."

Frigga's voice, gentle and patient as the days before his treachery. Loki narrowed his eyes. This was a lie he could no longer tolerate.

"I am _not_ your son, and you not my mother."

His raspy insistence served little purpose. The queen only laughed to herself, and the trickster found himself struggling to continue. Her devotion, so foolishly unwavering, turned his insides to churning with rage. How could she still come to him and call him her son? How could she bear the lie any longer? Her hand rose to touch his face and he drew away. She shook her head and sat on the cot, leaving enough room for him to join should he choose.

He remained standing and peered down at her. He waited for the blow to come, as he'd known it would. In truth he'd expected this sooner, in those moments when he stood bound before his false family and could do nothing but listen to their poison.

"Sit, Loki. I will cleanse your wounds."

He determined not to speak and give her the satisfaction of hearing his voice, though he could not fathom her intentions in this action. Did she think he would fall to his knees before her and beg for forgiveness? He was proud and strong, stronger than his temper-driven brother. He could withstand the draw of that maternal hand.

"Tomorrow the All-Father sentences you. I have requested leniency, a request he granted for the dual voices of your mother and brother."

She did not look relieved as she spoke of this. Instead she searched his face for forgiveness, a sentiment he could not give when he did not realize the extent of her crime. Intrigued by the change in her countenance, he sat next to her. Putting himself within her reach and appearing to accept her ministrations made the likelihood of her speaking increase, and he would hear the tale of woe she felt she needed to confess.

Frigga touched his face now and looked at every visible wound. Her eyes shone bright with false tears, for what other kind could they be? False tears shed for the false son. Loki was still as she produced a healing stone, which she cracked and pressed against his cuts and bruises. He was tempted to remove his outer garments and show her the full extent of his assorted damages, to test the limits of this treachery.

He closed his eyes instead, to block out the concern on her face. Let her think this son was within her grasp. He owed nothing to those who claimed him under the falsest of pretenses. To claim that they loved him as a son!...

"I request now for leniency on myself. Try not to hate your mother, my son. I wish only that you learn the extent of your crimes, without suffering the whole of the pains you have committed."

''The queen is kind, to request clemency for a prisoner.''

''No kinder than she ought be, when that same prisoner and her youngest son are one.''

Loki pursed his lips and remained silent now, allowing her to finish with the cuts on his face. He said nothing until her hands finished their ministrations. He kept his eyes closed, to continue blocking that maternal love which burned against his skin as his cuts sealed shut.

''Know that I meant you no harm, Lady Queen.''

He would never come closer to an apology for his actions than this moment, and Frigga appeared to recognize this when she replied.

''You are forgiven, my son. Yet even a prince of Asgard must face repercussions for grievous crime.'' She gathered herself and left him then, to ponder his actions and her forgiveness alone.

* * *

It was Odin who discovered their eldest standing under a covered walkway, gazing out to the shattered Bifrost. Thor was gripping Mjolnir absently, a sign of his need for comforts which he no longer requested from his parents as a grown man. Odin was struck that the last time the two men stood in tandem at this place, Loki was also the cause. The All-Father waited for his son to acknowledge him, which Thor did in a few more moment's time. He was never able to ignore either parent's presence for long. A trait his brother did not inherit.

"Father," the thunder god said, "how fare you?"

"I come seeking your counsel." Thor's surprise infected the All-Father with some urgency. "As future king of Asgard, your counsel is both sought out and welcomed in times of great need. You must learn to make difficult decisions for the good of the kingdom."

Now the surprise mingled with tension. Thor had been approached once about torturing his brother while on Midgard, and though he understood the desperation which fueled the move, he would not soon forget that Nick Fury was the sort of man who saw no ill will in the torture of prisoners. Nor the type of man to hesitate to ask that same prisoner's brother to lay his honor down and take part in such cruelty. Would his father be the same sort of man? And if so, would he as well, after enough years of the crown's weight bent his spine?

"You speak of Loki's detention."

"I do." Odin stepped forth and gazed upon his kingdom. He stood to Thor's left, so that his eye was concealed by his frame and Thor could not see the wetness gathering there. "What is your estimation of his state?"

Thor clenched Mjolnir's handle as he replied, the firm strength a comfort in this dark discussion. "He is corrupted, father. The corruption goes to the core, and I fear it will take many years to dig it out of him." He pondered whether to reveal the rest, and then plunged forward to better inform the king of his prisoner's thoughts. "He refuses to acknowledge us as kin any longer."

**_Your _**_father. _Truth be told, Loki had only once outright denied kinship with Thor, before his fall - only their father was denied, and the shared heritage implied. Thor took some comfort in that thought, and loosened his grip on Mjolnir.

Odin nodded, his eye still hidden from Thor's sight. "Would you say that he would learn from banishment, as you have?" Thor shook his head immediately, before he had chance to truly consider the idea, and his reaction was enough to fuel his doubts into words.

"I learned a great deal from my time on Midgard...but I am not near so skilled a wordsmith as Loki. I fear his talents would take him further than we ever dreamed, even without his magic." Thor tilted his head and outwardly recognized a hard truth about his favored of the Nine. "Humans are drawn to words; they crave that which provides false comfort, and are gullible when the words appear truthful enough. That is a trait which my brother would exploit to great advantage." Thor, in his banishment, never had ambitions toward any kind of Midgardian throne. Loki's own ambitions in regards to Midgard were abundantly clear.

Odin nodded. "A tempered sentence, then. Come, Thor. We will discuss the terms together, as your experience with Midgard is more recent and therefore of great value in this task."


	2. The Common Customer

_Please let me know if you spot any typos! Or, of course, have suggestions!_

_As a sidenote, the OC is here for a very particular plot purpose (that has nothing to do with pairing). I hope you can bear with me! All will be revealed in time._

* * *

The apartment was bare and untouched in several locations, a sign that the person living there didn't care if the place looked "homey" or even inhabited. There was a futon with a ragged blanket spread across the worn cushion. An upended cardboard box with dents on the side closest to the futon where feet often propped served as a makeshift coffee table. An old dial TV set with crooked rabbit ears and a dying screen was hooked to a VHS player on the floor, and behind that a tall floor lamp graced the small space with halogen light. A book bag with assorted textbooks leaned on the side of the TV. An acoustic guitar leaned against that.

No picture frames of family or friends interrupted the drab space. The only sign of modernity was a small iPod player set up on the kitchen table. Its cord hung across the space behind the table to plug into the wall. Quiet music drifted across the space, and a quieter voice from the nearby bedroom sang along.

"_A thousand other boys could never reach you…how could I have been the one_…"

A woman's voice, unassuming and near-hesitant. She didn't like to draw attention to herself, even when there was no one to see.

"_And angels fall without you there…and I go on as you get colder_…"

She stepped out of the bedroom while tying her brown hair into a ponytail. The rest of her hair curled down to her upper back. She had a dark, small body topped by a plain face with little makeup. Her only distinguished features were long eyelashes above dark brown eyes, though without mascara one could hardly tell she had anything there at all.

She was dressed for practicality: a pair of white sneakers with rolled-down white socks, a khaki skirt, a white shirt and no jewelry. She didn't like jangling on work days.

She grabbed a small set of keys splayed across the kitchen counter, a gray purse, and stepped outside without a final room check. There was nothing to check the status of; everything was always in order because there was barely anything there.

She walked to the bus stop just outside of her apartment complex. The bus bench was metallic and covered, which helped in the misting weather. She stood underneath it and pulled out a set of crinkled notes to review. Her handwriting was jerky and masculine; she'd never learned to dot her "I"s with circles or hearts and she couldn't master the art of bubbly letters. There were a few drawings scattered among the scrawl, of various cell organelles with arrows to indicate important pieces. They weren't quality so much as recognizable, which was enough for her needs.

The bus rolled up to the stop with a shriek and she wondered how often they changed the breaks on these things. Not often enough.

The bus ride was short. An elderly black gentleman dressed in a professional brown suit with hat and cane caught her eye as they rode. She pulled a pad and paper and jotted notes to write his story without asking a single question. He rode with the same disinterested blank look as any other bus rider with a specific place in mind. He became animated five stops down. His eyes widened slightly and he stood, pressing the tip of the cane hard into the floor as he pushed himself to his feet. She assumed they ached and wrote that down. He stepped off the bus and no one replaced him. She put the notebook away.

She walked into the outdoor and canopied shop called Beans and Leaves. The glass case by the register featured an assortment of coffees and teas from around the world – or so they claimed. She stepped behind the counter and rummaged in a plastic bin hidden on a bottom shelf for an apron to wear. Another barista came from the direction of the storage room and jolted when she saw her coworker tying the apron strings.

"Lynn's here," the barista said as she pushed past. "I'm going on my break."

_I'm alright,_ Lynn thought. _How about you?_

There was a quiet grunt of acknowledgement from an older man sitting at a small round table and reading a newspaper. He tipped his coffee cup to his lips after every thirty words read. Lynn cleared her throat to get his attention. He didn't look at her, but that was Kurt. He never looked where his attention went.

"Kurt, is there any chance of leaving early today? I have a lot of homework to catch up on."

He tilted the cup up, set it back on the table. Lynn put her small notebook into her apron pocket and then put her purse under the counter. She picked up a rag and started wiping down the counter as she waited. He was thinking and it wouldn't help to rush him.

"Fine," he finally said.

"Eight o'clock?" She knew she was pushing it, but if he was agreeable she saw no reason not to take advantage. He tipped the cup again, thinking over this request. Then he shrugged his shoulders.

"Fine."

She finished wiping the counter down and went to the register where a customer waited to be rung up. The day would be slow until her shift ended, by the laws of time passage. She definitely wasn't having fun.

"Lynn," a voice from the combination storage and break room called, "_he's here_."

* * *

Every waitress had their groupies. Regulars who frequented that specific girl's shift to flirt in the hopes that one day the professional friendliness would give way to personal fondness. There were ten servers at this shop who alternated their schedules, and all of them had regulars. Lynn had only one.

In her head she called him Bones because of his sharp features and a sharper scowl. He was always dressed in immaculate clothing and stood out in the small shop, where most of the regulars were scruffy college students who didn't care how put-together they looked. Lynn couldn't say if he was handsome. Her coworkers appreciated his looks and snappy fashion sense. She would've appreciated a smile every once in a while.

He was the type who liked to be waited on. Most customers understood that the counter was there for use. He would sit instead and demand service if he wasn't approached within a minute. The first time he'd come, several months ago, he'd bellowed until she came over. She'd been the only one of three waitresses willing to approach the crazed bellowing sharp-faced man. Her indifference seemed to be just what he wanted. Now he only appeared during her shifts.

She decided not to complain about him too much. He might be a bastard, but he was a good tipper. He always ordered exactly one drink, paid with a twenty and left the remaining change. She wondered if he knew how tips worked. Then again, if she educated him that would be less in her pocket for the night. Since she was taking an early night, she needed the extra cash for bills.

Maybe she'd ask some other time.

She walked to his table and pulled her notepad from her apron. Three months ago she'd been business polite; now he'd come here often enough that they could skip the pleasantries and get to the point. She resented his overall rudeness but enjoyed the indulgence of the game they played. Her coworkers were convinced he was an actor; she suspected he was a live action role-player. The stories he told when provoked were too fantastical for any play, and the sincerity with which he told them displayed a level of commitment she expected from someone who lived and breathed the character he embodied.

She spoke first tonight, to cut off his opening volley and take the lead.

"When are you going to tell me your real name?"

He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the side. One sentence and she'd already annoyed him. She reminded herself of the tip that would come if she stayed patient.

"You have already heard it."

She snorted and flipped her small notebook open to read.

"Right. Loki. God of mischief. A trickster. Brother of Helblindi and – "

"That is incorrect."

"What?"

"I am brother to no one."

She tilted her hand and showed him her notes, carefully dotted and spaced. Helblindli had a smaller note next to it which read _ask how to pronounce_.

"Sorry, wiki disagrees with you. Guess you need to rewrite yourself."

A dangerous look floated across his features. She drew back, surprised that he was reacting so poorly. So much for getting a smile out of him.

"It is amazing, how humans have butchered reality to suit their own foul needs."

This was something else she could do without. He spoke in such a strange, grandiose way. Why did everything have to be so dire?

"What, you saying you didn't give birth to an eight legged horse?"

The look on his face almost broke her composure. She clenched her jaw and tried not to laugh at him. At least he didn't look dangerous anymore.

"What a shame. That would be a great story to share."

She pulled out her pen and clicked it, ready to take his order as soon as he decided. He watched her in silence instead. She started to sweat. What was he staring at? She poked her teeth with her tongue. Nothing stuck that she could feel…was there something on her face? She started to reach a hand up to rub across her cheeks when he spoke.

"What would you consider a _conception_ of family?"

"A dream."

She answered without thinking and regretted it. She saw the new question building in his sharp eyes and headed him off with her own.

"What do you want to drink tonight? You haven't tried the chamomile with peach tea yet."

She watched him decide to let the comment go. He nodded agreement at her suggestion and she walked away to prepare the drink with quick steps to keep him from asking after having time to think about it. Eight o'clock couldn't come soon enough.

* * *

In his weaker moments, he remembered a promise made and yet kept before his failure to capture Midgard.

_You think you know pain? He will make you long for something sweet as pain_.

The All-Father's punishment was severe by the trickster's standards. He was deemed unfit for the same banishment visited upon Thor due to the dangerous weapon he still wielded. Even without powers, the All-Father understood the inherent weakness of so many of Midgard's inhabitants and recognized that a silver tongue might grant greater power than all the magics at the trickster's disposal. Still, Odin considered Earth a prime source of lessons for his sons, and instead Loki was to serve witness to human pain. A strong illusionary spell was determined fitting, with stronger conditions to limit his influence over the world he was forced to visit each time he slept. Under the All-Father's powerful curse, the god of mischief transported his illusion to Midgard during his dream state, a sentence which left him lacking in proper rest as well as surrounded by the very bile he sought to contain.

Loki's ethereal visits to Midgard were monitored by Heimdall, who reported all events witnessed to the All-Father. Thor asked for the information as well with the air of brotherly desperation. He wanted to believe that Loki would learn the error of his cruelty and rejoin the royal family as an equal. As long as Loki believed his poisonous thoughts, he would remain a prisoner of Asgard.

The brothers saw each other rarely by Loki's own efforts. He had made his hatred of his adoptive family clear with his vicious tongue, and visiting him within the confines of a small cell to suffer the same affronts was taxing. Thor had left behind much of his impulsiveness, but his temper still got the better of him where his brother was concerned.

Loki lay chained to a stone table, his home for the past several months. The chains restricted his abilities and allowed the All-Father to channel only those abilities needed to perform penance. Loki was a master of magical manipulations and already contained within him the ability to project his image across great distances. With the All-Father's assistance, the projection became more substantial, even able to interact with the humans he was forced to tolerate for a day at a time. Each visit bursting with worthless hours among the mortals of Midgard, to observe their customs from a mortal standpoint and learn something of how they thought.

He hated them more with each passing trial.

How his fickle false brother had come to decide that these creatures were worthy of Asgardian protection was beyond the trickster. They were weak and foolish, and though Loki would never speak the words aloud he acknowledged that Thor was only one of those things. The god of thunder had no reason to give his strength to these lost creatures. The All-Father had less reason to care about their goodwill. How could this family be so blinded by humanity?

Yet even through his hatred he found moments to appreciate. A child's lie to keep a parent from suspecting bad behavior. A lover cheating for the thrill of cheating on someone who trusted them and thus shatter the bonds of family. Newspapers and magazines and books full of tales of humans killing other humans in the most astonishingly cruel methods possible. There were moments when he learned of an act committed by one mortal against another where even he wondered at the cruelty on display. And these were the very same creatures his brother wanted to protect? What was there to protect, in such a vicious race? Their freedom to choose their own destinies gave them opportunity to be cruel, and their short lifespans gave them incentive to be as cruel as possible, in as little time as possible.

He craved solitude on these visits, wanting nothing more than to avoid every mortal he might. Some visits were a different location, a different place of the All-Father's choosing. The more crowded, it seemed, the better. Loki learned of Russian survival, a trait he'd thought unique to the lady assassin only to find that her people thrived in ambivalence to life's cruelties. He learned of the desperation of underdeveloped nations, and the indifference of greater nations to the ease with which they could end so many plights. He witnessed acts both brave and cowardly, and even those considered brave he sneered at to see. _This_ was the race his false brother so envied? _This_?

He found some peculiar habits still ingrained among mortals that he thought reserved for their primitive ancestors. A sense of honor and duty to warrior brethren, a need for accolades and the blind worship of those deemed superior in some way. He learned of simple pleasures as well, though kept these thoughts to himself when the All-Father demanded to know of the journey's lessons. The trickster kept his own counsel and revealed nothing to those he could not trust for their blinded delusions. If the All-Father witnessed some spark of humanity within the god of treachery, it was by no fault of Loki's own.

And then there were his testing grounds. It was simple enough to spend time with the most lowly mortals under the guise of charity or companionship. Heimdall reported that Loki spoke with some of them frequently, even appeared to become attached for how often he repeated visits to the same locations. It worked well in the trickster's favor. He gathered information of mortal tolerance and acceptable customs slowly and quietly, directly under the gaze of his warden, and they were all none the wiser. The trickster was master of many talents, among them the ability to conceal more than just himself. Ever under that watchful gaze, he groomed himself to assimilate more easily and softened the edges which drove him from businesses or events where mortals gathered in droves.

He learned, and he practiced often.

He'd come to this small shop on one of his first visits out of desperate boredom and a desire to be away from the vast throngs of humanity. The cramped space was uninviting to those who preferred the larger crowds, and he was left alone unless something was needed. He'd sat and waited for service that first night, as he'd come to expect from many other such places, and demanded the service when it was denied. Three women in the traditional servant uniform debated amongst themselves until the bravest one emerged. He spared her no kindness that night and she took his order without comment. He admitted himself impressed when the coffee arrived as black as night, just as he'd requested and without a hint of spittle.

Her resilience was a challenge. Testing her limits broke the monotony and he enjoyed these small moments of sparring with an enemy who did not realize she was an enemy. He used her reactions to hone his ability to converse with humans in a less brazen fashion - further tools that would become useful when he had need of manipulating humans again. He did not forget that of the group who defeated his rise to rulership of Midgard, only one was not human. Loki expected another opportunity to arise. He only needed to bide his time, ride out his patience and let his false father and brother believe he was learning the value of human life.

Tonight's episode began and ended sooner than he expected. The trickster watched her hurried departure and pondered the comment that had sent her scurrying in fear - a comment which he hadn't made. What weakness had she revealed in that statement that distressed her so? And how was family a _dream_?

She brought the tea and he tasted it. He wasn't certain he enjoyed this particular combination, but trying each flavor was another way to alleviate his perpetual boredom. He paid and left the change as usual. He heard the woman – Lynn, as her name tag declared – gather the change from the table and mutter to herself. _Crazy bastard_.

He smiled and kept walking. And as he left, something else watched him go.

* * *

Lynn clocked out at eight o'clock exactly and waved to Kurt on her way out. Even though it wasn't too late, the streets were quieter at night. Less people roamed when the light wasn't around to let them feel safe. She was grateful that her bus stop was only a block away.

A man in a strange mask and flowing cape stepped from the shadows and brushed past her as she walked. She yelped at the sudden sight and turned to watch him walk away. He didn't apologize or even slow down. She clenched her jaw in annoyance, then shook her head and decided to let it go.

_Maybe Dragoncon's in town_, she thought. It explained the crazy getup. Some people needed to get a life. That or invite her along. She envied the friends that other people seemed to have. Dressing up like some ridiculous anime princess was a small price to pay for having a group of friends to dress up with.

She drew her purse close and searched the contents for the bus pass which she never kept in one location. Someday she'd remember to find an envelope, she promised herself. A wallet, a slip, something to keep herself from digging for minutes and minutes to find one credit-card shaped pass.

"Dammit, Lynn, _every time…_"

Her frustration broke when her fingers closed on the smooth plastic. She produced the card moments before reaching the bus stop, and gripped it in her hand as she waited.

"A dream," she muttered, "a dream! Who the hell says that? You are the worst, Lynn."

The bus came every fifteen minutes, giving her more than enough time to berate herself endlessly for saying something so blasé.

* * *

"The mortal generates _little_ interest in him, save for _amusement_ at her expense."

_The tether?_

"It is in _place_, my lord."

_We will take and destroy every human life, be they evil or pure, distant or close, from every realm. We will start at the most distant edge. And once we reach the epicenter, those who remain will see nothing but the horrors I have wrought on those around them_.

* * *

Two days in a row was almost asking too much this week. She told herself to think of the money and composed her work outfit with the same resignation as any other night. She'd asked for an early night yesterday with a claim of homework, and though she did have homework to do, once she'd gotten home she'd sat on her futon and done nothing. A fitting end to another pointless day.

She could ask Kurt for another early night, but the habit would become harder to break with each repetition. Instead she squared her shoulders, set her hair into a tight band and straightened her shirt. At least if the actor / LARPer / Norse god were there tonight, it would break up the monotony.

The bus ride went smoothly as before, and she tossed her pass into her purse as she stepped inside of Beans and Leaves for the second time in twenty-four hours. She pushed her purse under the counter, picked up an apron, and set to adjusting her outfit and tying the ties. The moment Kendra saw her, the other waitress waved her over to ask for help pulling something down from storage. Lynn was taller than the other girl and able to more easily reach the top shelf.

As the two worked to pry the indicated box from the shelf, the third waitress on duty poked her head into the storage room and greeted them both with enormous eyes. She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened again to deliver a startling message.

"Uh…Lynn? Someone's here to see you."

"Is it that guy?" Lynn tugged the box into her arms and set it down on a work bench as she asked. She grabbed an exacto knife and slid it through the tape across the top, listening as she worked.

"Uh…no. A friend of his. He asked to talk to whoever speaks with Loki."

Lynn sighed. It looked like "Loki" was telling his crazy actor / LARPer / Norse god friends about the dopey waitress who would humor their delusions.

"God, how many of them are there?"

Kendra laughed and clapped Lynn on the arm in a show of mutual strength. "Don't worry Lynn, if he's half as good a tipper maybe you've got a new source of good money."

"Lynn…" The other girl whose name Lynn struggled to remember shook her head, then spoke in a more subdued tone.

"He's gotta be an actor. Wait 'til you see this guy!"

Her head ducked back out of the storage room. Lynn looked at Kendra, who grinned and strode out of the storage room with curiosity as her guide. What could this guy possibly look like to proclaim a declaration like that? Lynn shook her head and start pulling out bags of supposed humanely gathered coffee beans from Peru.

* * *

"Director Fury."

"Miss Hill?"

"We've got a situation. An abduction of a young woman occurred two hours ago. We have reason to believe it's related to the attack on New York. The man cited a customer they've received who calls himself Loki. When showed a picture of the known terrorist, the staff confirmed ID."

Nick raised both eyebrows, though only one was visible around the eyepatch. "Are you certain?"

"Yes, sir."

Nick pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose and squeezed, hard. What was Loki doing on Earth, again? And where was his damn brother, if he were here?

"Get Rogers on the phone, and assemble who we have. We're going in."

* * *

Loki expected better by now, and in every sense he was spoiled for the service of others. The waitress he preferred to torment appeared gone tonight, a great oddity since he knew this as a night she worked on a regular basis. He was less concerned about her lack of presence and more with his unwillingness to explain himself to another quivering female. His solace was interrupted and he was prepared to leave. A voice pulled his attention upward. Another of the servant girls stared at him, trembling hands grasping a pen and pad with resolve. Her name tag read _Kendra_, a name he could not say he cared for. And she was waiting in that painful silence of a person who knows that speaking first has already given them away.

He narrowed his eyes and decided he was unwilling to exert himself further. If speaking must be a struggle, he'd rather struggle speaking with his foolish false brother than this pitiful excuse of mortality.

He began to stand and the girl's voice burst forth with hurried desperation.

"What'll it be, hun?"

_Hun_.

He grimaced at the casual title and more at her attempt at conversation. He continued standing and adjusted his impeccable coat.

"I will return another eve. Good-"

The girl was grasping for straws of interest, something to keep him present. He could tell by the surge of pleading in her face. Why would she want him to stay close? The god of trickery knew a trick when he was the intended target, and he wasted no time taking his leave – until that pleading voice burst forth again behind him and stopped him with its ferocity.

"Lynn's gone."

One phrase, spat as an accusation. He turned with raised brows and couldn't help a moment's gloating glory. Had he won their banter so thoroughly that the wretch had taken her leave of this hovel? How fitting, to claim such solid victory over an unwary opponent.

The hatred in this girl's eyes gave him pause. She spoke again, and there was no mistaking the venom this time.

"Someone took her."

The underlying message, _was it you?_, brought his brows together in momentary confusion. Why would he steal a mere mortal away? And more, why was he under suspicion at all?

Lights and cocking rifles emerged from both front and back of the shop. The god of mischief turned in a slow circle with both hands raised, and smiled to see Director Fury flanked by both of his wary spies. The archer was already pointing an arrow at the trickster's head; the lady spy stood with her arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

Ah, an attempt to capture. Would they be disappointed or relieved when their implements fell on the nothing of his projection? It was little effort to banish himself away from this place, but the appearance of a tall, unwavering Nick Fury stilled him. The girl servant was pulled back and away from the commotion. Loki sneered to see how they protected the innocent, as though their own hands were not drenched in that same blood.

"Director," he said, "I am obliged by your presence."

"I can't say the same."

Nick Fury walked in a tight circular pattern along the edge of the establishment. The distance was related to both personal safety and respect for the power standing in the center. Loki seemed harmless, even pleasant as he stood with an amused smile on his face. The director of SHIELD was smart enough to grant him the necessary space to let him remember that he was considered a threat. Loki enjoyed gloating, and making him feel powerful was a surefire method of provoking the god.

It worked.

"And what has brought the spymaster and his clones to visit me this night? Are you seeking a worthy opponent to justify your masquerade as a viable organization?"

Nick ignored the taunt. He brandished a large photo instead, and Loki recognized the sour face staring out from the image.

"This is Miss Lynn Creed. She was abducted two nights ago by someone who used _your_ name to draw her out."

The god of lies observed the painted canvas with scrutiny and found himself perplexed by the stare she gave the painter. A look full of complacency, even boredom, and a lack of the joyous air so many such canvases boasted. How had this portrait artist brought such gloom and sold the results so easily? A different sort of portrait, perhaps, than the ones seen in windows and great shouting billboards.

"The young lady who witnessed the abduction described the attack in detail and gave us enough information for a composite sketch of the attacker. Miss Creed was taken by this."

The second portrait drew a response in the form of widened, then narrowed eyes. It meant nothing, could mean nothing to these mortals – but it meant a great deal to the trickster. Even with some deviation from the overall design, he recognized the very reason for his current predicament. Yet how had the Other come _here_, to this specific location? How had he known of these visits, or of the position of the trickster at all?

Loki needed a plan, and luckily was fast enough to construct one here, now, in a moment's time. He smiled at the director of SHIELD and tilted his head.

"I appreciate the message, Director. If you'll excuse me -"

A hand clenched on his arm and the illusion wavered, unable to sustain itself under such pressure. The god's form flickered in their eyes and they realized this was yet another trick, another lie they believed without question. He turned to see who tried to contain him and found the stern blue eyes of the soldier. The Captain grasped for his arm again to find that the illusion was now broken. Each swipe passed through the god with no effect. Loki bared his teeth in a malicious grin and laughed at them before shimmering out of sight, back to Asgard and his prone body.

On the stone tablet the trickster opened his eyes and creased his brow. His safety was assured so far away from both Director Fury and The Other's compounded presence, yet a question burned in his mind and demanded attention lest he neglect to deem it important enough to recall. How had The Other found him? And why take a mortal woman in place of the god himself?


	3. Penance

_Threw you the obvious and you flew with it on your back,_  
_A name in your recollection down among the millions there:_  
_Difficult not to feel a little bit disappointed,_  
_And passed over_  
_But I look right through see you naked but oblivious..._  
_But you don't see me_

* * *

Lights dotted Lynn's vision as she came to with a quiet moan. Her head was pounding and she couldn't remember why. Had she drank too much the night before? It was possible. She wasn't the smartest when it came to drinking.

She pulled at her arm to wipe her face and found that her arm was immobilized. She tried to other one, then both, and that movement raised her body an inch. She opened her eyes and looked down to see herself still dressed in her work clothes, complete with apron but missing one shoe. Standing up? She looked up and saw the thick chains clenched around her wrists.

No. It wasn't from drinking too much.

Fear slammed into her. Where was she? _Why_ was she there? She pulled at her wrists and let out a cry of pain when they tightened to the point of breaking. She froze, and the pressure relaxed. Pulled again to test what she'd felt, and sure enough the pressure increased. This time when she stopped pulling it remained longer. A reminder not to struggle, or a faulty mechanism?

_You will learn which struggles are useless, and which will grant you more pain than your body may bear. For this time, we are lenient, if only to give you a moment's reprieve. _

She sucked in a breath and stared at the jagged stone walls surrounding her. There was no one in her sight, yet the voice echoed in her mind as clearly as spoken words. She cleared her throat and inhaled deeply to find that there were no scents she recognized in this room. Since the voice had stopped and she was not gagged, she tried to ask a question of her own.

"Reprieve from what?"

_Vengeance_.

Her eyes were wide with dilated pupils and she trembled in the chains. Who, why, where – she had many questions she wanted answered and a growing sense of limited time. The chains were tight enough to restrict blood flow to her fingers and the tingling sensation was distracting her. If she was to be a prisoner, she had to decide which question mattered most to her. In the grand scheme, it was the same question any human asked of life, and she voiced it with desperate conviction in her belief that this answer alone would bring her peace.

"Why?"

A door's creak behind her, accompanied by a voice she'd heard before. Gravelly and caked with malice, it slithered around either side of her to settle inside her ears and echo deep inside.

"Do you _ask_ why we take _vengeance_, or why we take _vengeance_ upon _you_?"

She recognized the same lengthy vowels as before and shuddered when a cold pressure touched the small of her back and rotated around her waist as the creature came into view, dragging his clawed hand against her. He wore the same mask as before, with sharp teeth and no eyes she could meet. She stared and shook in her bonds, and realized she might have one more question left to her before he tired of this exchange.

"Both," she said, and found that she'd guessed correct. The creature raised his other hand and reached forward to press a thick metallic gag against her mouth. She jerked her head back and away but there was nowhere to go; the gag settled in place across her lower jaw and clamped into the nape of her neck to hold her mouth closed.

She whimpered and jerked her head again. This time the creature released her with what passed for a smile in its sinuous mouth. She shuddered again when it stepped closer and raised one of its hands to hover close to her face. She stared at both hand and multiple fingers.

"Vengeance upon _another_ who failed so _completely_. Our disappointments are _nothing_ in the _face_ of His _wrath_. The godling failed _us_, the humans _overran_ our forces, and now both will _suffer_ our penance."

The hand touched down against her exposed cheek and she tilted her head away. Her shaking was noticeable now and the creature seemed to enjoy her discomfort. The hand followed until she could tilt no further, grasped cheek and jaw, and pulled her head forward to stare into the face inches away from her own.

"As for _what_ you have done…nothing. _Nothing_ is the crime you _suffer_ for_._ You will stay here, _imprisoned,_ and none shall seek you _out_."

_Why_, she screamed in the silence behind the metal. _Why are you doing this to me?_

He seemed to hear her unspoken cries and stretched his lips in a grotesque imitation of pleasure. Her fear fed his system and his tongue lapped out to taste the air which sizzled with panic. She closed her eyes to block out the sight and received a harsh shake. She grunted and opened her eyes again, wide with terror. Her breathing was ragged through her nose; she gasped for enough air to survive. Dots circled her vision and she was on the verge of losing consciousness as the panic attack settled in her lungs and heart. Her pulse raced out of her control; her nostrils widened in response and she dragged as much air into herself as possible. But the air was thinner with oxygen here, too thin for her nervous system to sustain itself under duress, and her eyes turned glassy and askew as her consciousness faded.

The hand pressed against her again, this time in the center of her chest over her overly stimulated heart. The organ pumped deliriously for several more seconds, then began a steady decline in tempo. Somehow his hand was slowing her systems, and as she calmed she wondered if he could stop her heart just by leaving the hand where it pressed.

"Do not fall _asleep_ little mortal. We will _take_ our fill of your suffering _yet_."

* * *

"Father," the thunder god demanded, "my brother is affected."

Odin took no pleasure in the punishment he oversaw and knew the duress of Loki's imprisonment and forced temporary banishments were taking their toll on both sons. He stood in the hall, surrounded by wonders pillaged from distant lands, and waited for Thor to explain himself further. That Loki was affected meant little; the trickster made no effort to conceal his never-ending loathing of the sentence imposed. Yet the pain was minimal, and in truth Loki suffered far less than those whose lives he snuffed on his mad journey to become king of Midgard.

Thor awaited his father's acknowledgement for scant moments before plundering on in his insistence.

"Father, Loki is affected today. There is change in his demeanor that might indicate a realization of wrongdoing."

At this the All-Father turned a suspicious eye on his ever-hopeful son.

"Are you certain you have witnessed differences, Thor? Or has your hope blinded you once more to the indifference of the prisoner to his plight?"

Thor showed all signs of temper at this declaration, and Odin realized his son felt this difference he spoke of more surely than any other. When questioned on such outbursts in the past, the thunder god merely departed in a haste of depression. Today he stood his ground, and for this the All-Father felt the hope of his own heart stir.

"What have you witnessed, boy?"

Thor seemed about to explain, then shook his head in quiet decision. "You must come witness yourself, father. You will see as I have as soon as you lay eyes upon him."

Father and son walked in tandem toward Loki's cell, though Thor pulled ahead in his urgency. It reminded him of so many times he and his brother walked the same way, Thor bounding ahead in his desire to throw himself at the world while Loki hung back in the shadows to wait for Thor to clear the path with might or force…

The cell opened as they approached and spread like a gaping maw. Loki lay on the stone tablet as before, unmoving with hands crossed on his chest. The All-Father's heart sank to see his younger son distinctly unaffected. He paused before entering, as though debating the worthiness of entering at all, but Thor blustered inside and stood close by the tablet. Loki remained unseeing until the thunder god spoke his name. His eyelids popped open and he took in the scene. Thor at his side, the All-Father looming in the doorway. He couldn't stop the grin from breaking across his face.

"Have you tired of this sentence, All-Father? An execution is more fitting, and at the hands of the false brother more so."

Thor clenched his fists in anger. It was a long, tense moment of internal struggle, and the god spoke through grinding teeth.

"What did you see which disturbed you so last night, brother? You returned agitated and pondered through the long night over your troubles."

The trickster narrowed his eyes and hissed a response.

"That you would dare observe me in the quiet of night – "

"Do not respond to one statement and ignore the remainder!"

"I will respond as I please."

The All-Father raised a hand to silence them both. The gesture silenced Thor immediately while the trickster only laughed.

"You think to command me, great All-Father, with paltry gestures – "

"Silence."

The trickster stilled on his platform and tightened his jaw. The All-Father observed him for several long minutes, as though intending to wait out his stubborn tongue. There was a moment's relief when Odin turned his eye to the side, dashed in the next when the All-Father commanded another within the room.

"Heimdall. Has Thor Odinson reported false information in regards to the prisoner?"

"No, All-Father. He remained restless throughout the night."

The great warrior stood close to the doorway and gripped his sword parallel to his body. His summons occurred earlier, as it always occurred at this time during the day when the All-Father interrogated the prisoner to determine if any change occurred.

"What caused this change in countenance?"

"An encounter with members of the same Midgard organization which defeated him, and the message they delivered."

The trickster exploded into motion. He sat up on the stone and braced one hand against it to glare at the men surrounding him on all sides. Each direction he turned a different emotion greeted him: Thor in his eternal hope, Odin All-Father in his concentration, Heimdall in his ambivalence.

The three paused to grant him the floor. Loki remained silent through his agitated movements, and the All-Father continued.

"What message was delivered?"

"A young woman was abducted two days hence, by a party who claimed knowledge of Loki."

The trickster narrowed his eyes at the guardian of the realms upon hearing the indicated time frame. Two days? And Heimdall said nothing? Had he remained mute due to his own preference to keep his own counsel, or had he wanted to see how the god of mischief would react to the news? He sneered and spoke then. "_Two days_ you knew, and mentioned nothing? What compassion does the guardian of the realms display!"

Thor replied through his shock – that Loki would be agitated by the abduction of one human, and a mortal woman at that -

"Loki, do you feel concern for this human – "

"_Concern_, Odinson? _No_. She is mortal, nothing, a mote of dust. It is the _message_ which concerns me."

Silence followed. The trickster rejoiced in the sudden departure of noxious noises. Would they never leave him be again? The All-Father might, with enough refusal to cooperate. Heimdall would certainly depart at the first opportunity. Thor Odinson…

"What message, brother?"

Loki appeared shocked now, to think his brother had gained illumination into his mind. He soon realized, by the expectant gaze of both Odinson and All-Father, that he had spoken out of turn. The betrayal of the false family he could withstand; to think at the betrayal of his own tongue!...

"It is of no concern to you."

"Brother, whatever ails you, whatever troubles your roiling mind – "

"_Leave me be_."

"_No_, brother. I will know what torments you –"

"Am I not a prisoner suffering a most grievous sentence? Are my troubles not the desired conclusion to this endeavor?"

The All-Father spoke and silenced them both in his stead. His stare diminished Loki's anger until the trickster stilled and appeared resigned to a fate he could no longer control. "Heimdall," he began. The trickster grimaced in anticipation. How torturous, to hide nothing beyond the veil of those golden eyes! "Can you see this mortal now?"

"Yes."

The god of mischief tensed further. Was there no plane where the guardian's eyes could not peer? His fingers twitched in his craving to cloak himself from that piercing gaze, even when he was clearly visible without magical assistance.

"How does she fare?" The All-Father asked the question and kept his eye sealed to Loki's form. The trickster trembled under that steady gaze and stared back, though his eyes narrowed when Heimdall spoke again. Despite his attempt at dispassion, the All-Father saw concern flash in the younger god's eyes.

"She suffers at the hands of the Chitauri."

Thor stared at his younger brother as well. That the god of lies showed little emotion at this information meant nothing; his emotions were carefully concealed so to confuse and deceive. Yet their bond was sealed. Thor remembered not the mad king, but a younger brother attempting to deceive him in numerous ways. And though he fell for the tricks still, he knew the signs of a trap being laid.

The All-Father persisted on. "Have they given her reason for her abduction?"

"Yes."

Still the All-Father stared at his younger son, holding that gaze as surely as Loki held his. The trickster almost spoke then, to ask him to desist with this pointless line of questioning –

"What reason was given?"

"They claim she suffers as penance for the failure of Loki Laufeyson."

Heimdall's even and unemotional tone served in stark contrast to Thor's sudden outburst. The thunder god's voice rose in earnest pleading as he gazed upon the younger brother he no longer knew. "Loki, she suffers at their hands as restitution for you – "

"You speak as though this news affects you greatly, Odinson, but you forget that I care not for the plight of humans. _She means nothing to me_."

Thor bellowed, his temper unleashing its full weight at the trickster's cold admission.

"And this is the king who would rule them! A king who abandons the needs of his subjects with callous disregard for their well-being!"

The trickster's eyes widened as this final push found its target. This was an angle his slippery mind neglected, and even with the thought thrust firmly at him he struggled to care for but one mortal female. Yet if Odinson perceived that he might, this could work to his personal advantage. "Even if," he began, his tone quieter as he feigned deep thought, "I were capable of regaining her person, I could not."

"Why not, brother?" Thor was gripping his hammer without realizing the menace as he advanced on his younger brother. The trickster watched him and worried not; Thor would never hurt a chained prisoner, so long as he were not provoked beyond reason. Though Loki had little trouble provoking the thunder god, he had no intentions of stoking the rage already burning on the surface.

"I am chained, Odinson. My magic as bound as my hands. What would you have me do, the bound captive of Asgard?"

Thor turned his temper on their father, who now regarded his eldest with the same calculating eye. Thor had already made a decision; now there was only for the All-Father to agree. "I will return to Midgard with him, and enlist the Avengers to my aid. They are honor-bound, father, to assist in matters of Asgard, as we have assisted them."

"And caused those same issues, Odinson. What would entice their loyalties were you to appear on their doorstep with the cause of their misery in tow?"

"_Honor_, father. They care as much, if not more, for the duties of debt as any Asgardian – "

"And there is a greater lie than any I have ever told." Two sets of blue eyes fell upon gray. Loki was smiling as though impressed, and laughed in another moment.

"_Honor_, Odinson? It is _honor_ that drives them? Oh yes, the honor of capturing and torturing the weak to serve the mighty, the honor of abandoning their brethren to hunger and disease while – "

"Silence."

Again, the All-Father quelled them both. He spoke to Thor alone now; Loki sat as though forgotten, and without either set of eyes upon him clenched his jaw and let a moment's hesitation flow across his features. Heimdall met the god of lies' gaze in another moment. Loki froze his features into a shield of anger; the guardian did not react.

"Thor," the All-Father proclaimed, "do as you must. Find this woman and bring her home to Midgard."


	4. Happenstance

_Please, _she pleaded into the silence of her own head._Someone help me._

In this place her thoughts were unhidden. A quiet chuckle before her was echoed by the deeper laugh resonating in her head. She clenched her eyes shut and listened to the sound of air rushing in and out of her lungs. The rattling within her chest concerned her, a sign that her lungs hadn't forgotten the most recent illusion of breathing in fire.

It was all illusions as far as she could tell, save for the chains wrapped around her wrists. The pressure they exerted when she struggled was real enough; she had found herself on the verge of broken wrists more than once, and fought to keep her struggles still and avoid the further pain of ruptured bone.

The contraption on her face was also real. The sides dug into her face harder when she screamed, and the metal edges were not tempered. They cut her cheeks and left her feeling sore and weary as her body tried to heal fake and real wounds alike. She woke confused when she woke at all; she could never tell if she were fighting real injuries for those first moments of consciousness, until the rest of her thoughts followed and reminded her of the day before.

The metal, then, was real. Metal on both wrists, metal wrapping her face, and nothing more. Flames, water filling her lungs, frozen depths – bruises from beating, flayed skin, broken limbs – she clamped her eyes harder. She knew there was nothing to see. If she opened her eyes and looked down upon her naked body she would see no injuries. It was just that her mind and body disagreed so vehemently, and despite her higher mind knowing the truth, her instincts cried out for healing against the myriad of wounds inflicted.

_Go to hell_, she thought, as hard as she could, and was rewarded with fresh laughter. They wove in and out of her mind as fish flitting through the reeds of a river marsh. It meant a lack of privacy; every thought laid bare to their amusement. It also meant the gag did nothing. She could not speak with her voice yet still they heard every utterance. She found that she felt better for cursing them, even if the thoughts earned only a laugh. She was resisting, would forever resist; for if she gave in, if she allowed her body to succumb to the pains, then how would she escape to go home?

_No one comes for you. _

They wanted to bother her with this revelation and said it often. In the midst of pain she sometimes reacted with a sob. Now the pain was receding and she could reason with herself. She _knew_ no one would come as surely as she knew her own name. There was no one who _could_ come. No family, no friends, one crazed god who talked to her often enough to cause this –

_You claim family a dream, little mortal. You will explain yourself._

They'd found the stray memory when she thought of "Loki" – no, _Loki_. He was the real god as surely as she was stuck in this place of malice, or if he wasn't she was locked in her own mind in a hell of her own making.

She breathed steadily and quietly through her nose. She wasn't certain she'd been given an order, and if there was a chance of avoidance her silence would earn it. She'd found their demands sometimes spurred by boredom, quickly dissipated when another thought distracted them away.

The hand she feared most ripped the gag free from behind. She cried out in surprise and stinging soreness; welts which had formed under the gag opened at the sudden movement. She gasped through her mouth until the same hand closed over both mouth and nose.

_Wait_, she thought desperately. _Wait, I will tell you – _

"_Open_ your eyes and look upon your _better_."

She opened one eye since the other was braced under one of his many digits. She could not tell the difference between his sneer and his smile. Despite her musings on escape and moments of mental fortitude, she shook under that merciless grip.

"You will _tell us_, and suffer for _attempting_ to deny us the knowledge."

She couldn't breathe. Her lungs constricted and jolted inside her chest; it took little time for her body to convulse in desperation for air. Even when she was left alone, she felt as though she were straining for enough breath. She did not know their height relative to the ground, and even if she had did not understand the dynamics of mountaintops and the lower levels of life-giving oxygen around her. She did not know that she was suffocating each day as her body fought to make up the oxygen it lost in an ever-losing battle against physics.

He kept his hand across her face and she gasped against the foul skin. What response did he crave? If he would give her a sign, any sign, she would give it willingly, if only he would give her a sign –

"Do you _agree_, _little mortal_?"

_Yes_, she screamed inside her mind. _Yes, yes! I can't breathe, take your hand off, take it off you damned monster, yes yes yes – _

The hand vanished and she sucked in great gulps of precious air. The monster neither smiled nor sneered, only waited for her to divulge her reasoning. She didn't ask why he made her speak when they could simply peruse her mind for the answer; she knew his tactic. He wanted to make her _say_ it, give voice to the thoughts which haunted her. He wanted her to feel the weight of her own knowledge. She felt lucky; she'd accepted her life long ago and the admittance couldn't hurt her here, where there was no pride to appeal to.

She shivered. It was damn cold in this room. "I'm an orphan. I've never had a family. So, so having one...it's just a dream."

"A _pleasant_ dream, little mortal? Or one you find _abhorrent_ to your thoughts?"

They knew the answer, _they knew what she'd say_. She felt annoyance. Alone, afraid, naked and exposed - and yet when he asked a question he already knew the answer to, she felt angry. She hated to repeat herself. Perhaps that was the intention.

"I don't know. I've never had it so I don't know what I'm losing."

The creature laughed and the smile he'd withheld earlier stretched his mouth. He spoke into the air now and she tensed. She knew who he spoke to when he talked around her. When it occurred like this - out loud, for her to hear - it was to disturb her. She understood the pattern now. She tried to accept it with greater difficulty.

"She has no _use_ for dreams. They are but _visions_ without meaning."

_Take them._

"Take what," she asked. The creature was too close for a slow approach; he only reached a hand forward and gripped the top of her head, laughing at her sudden confusion.

"Take what, _what are you taking -_"

A white light lit up the room - or her mind, she couldn't tell. It passed as quickly and the creature was pulling away. That there was no pain shocked her; that he replaced the gag in another moment did not. Apparently he'd tired of this session. She still thought, knowing they would listen and might even respond. _What did you do to me?_

"_Rest_, little mortal." The monster moved behind her where the door seemed to be, sounding excited for her to discover what he'd done. "Rest, that you may _learn_ the futility of _dreams_."

* * *

The thunder god informed his mother personally of his intentions with Loki. Though the All-Father granted the request, the Queen of Asgard would worry if she were not told her sons' whereabouts. Frigga smiled, both at the message and the thought of her two sons working in tandem, however brief the mission.

"Protect your brother, Thor, and more yourself. His mind wavers still and he cannot be trusted with your mortal friends alone."

Thor bowed, then hugged the queen close to reassure her of his health. "I will protect." There were too many he needed to protect to offer any more specific targets.

Both the All-Father and the queen were present for their departure. The Warriors Three declined, since there was no battle for them to join and Heimdall would watch their friend and alert them of any needed assistance. Sif, however, approached Thor as he held the containment vessel which would transport them away. The Tesseract shimmered a lovely blue-gray; only Loki watched its shifting colors with open hunger.

Sif clenched her jaw as she watched that stare, then spoke to her dear friend. "Thor, you must rethink this. That you would risk so many, for one mortal woman -"

"This mortal suffers for my brother's crimes," the thunder god murmured, subdued by the emotional weight of his speech. "I would see her suffering ended."

Lady Sif took his arm in her hand and squeezed to offer her support, then stepped away. Thor's reasoning seemed sound, his thoughts unclouded by Loki's schemes.

The thunder god offered up the opposing end of the Tesseract's prison to his brother, who remained still. Thor said nothing, just waited for Loki to come to his own conclusions. As the moment stretched to minutes, Frigga stepped forth and touched her younger son's shoulder to draw him down and whisper into his ear. The trickster gave nothing away, his expression mute, but when the queen stepped back he took hold of vessel. Thor watched his brother as he twisted. A loud _crack_ proceeded a sudden shock of tumultuous sensations. The perception of being stretched, near torn apart, only to be reformed on Midgard.

They manifested in the same location where the Avengers sent them off several months before. Heimdall had guided their choice of time to minimize the witnesses to the event; only one homeless man saw the arrival of the two gods, and he burst into raucous laughter when they materialized before his eyes. There was little to say to such a strange spirit, and Thor had purpose for this visit.

Loki, however, found kinship with the laughing man. "Do you see, Odinson? The man who laughs most loses the least."

Thor said nothing. Just as well. Loki did not want conversation when one party chose to hear none of his words. Instead he looked back to the Tesseract. So close to his grasp, within it if only he could reach through the shield, if only his manacles came undone...

"Come, brother." Thor sounded weary, a familiar emotion where his brother was concerned. "We will find Stark Tower by the banner across its helm."

* * *

_Kiss me mother, kiss your darling._  
_Lay my head upon your breast._  
_Throw your loving arms around me._  
_I am weary; let me rest._

She could not sleep.

She closed her eyes and drifted without daydreams. Her exhaustion made her feel heavy and sagging. In the quiet, while the monster was gone and the voice left her be, she could find peace for a brief while. Until they'd taken this last refuge from her in a simple gesture.

She had thought she was exhausted to the point of breaking; now she learned how deep the well went. Without the ability to sleep, she lost the ability to think. Her thoughts drifted further and further and she began to forget herself. Time passed; she forgot more. She made tables in her head, scientific data and chemical reactions she struggled to grasp. She practiced songs and recited terrible poetry. In time, these passed as well into the hollows of her dissipating mind.

Finally she thought her name, over and over, turning the syllables repeatedly across her mental tongue. _I am Lynn Creed. Lynn Creed. Lynn Creed is my name._ She thought this important to remember, though it sat outside the borders of life as she now knew it. What use was a name in a place such as this? There was no one here. Perhaps it would be better to forget.

She hung limp in her manacles, fingers blue from blood loss. Her bent weight was not enough to trigger the full pressure mechanisms, but it pinched her wrists. She did not have enough energy to care.

This was when the monster returned. She heard the footsteps behind her and looked to the side to see who would come around. When she saw him, she barely understood who he was. She spoke into the gag, a soft _mmph_ in question. _May I help you_, she thought.

"Have you _enjoyed_ your relief, little_ mortal_?"

_Go away,_ she thought. _There's no one here._

The laughter echoed in front and inside. It was this noise which brought more memories - memories of pain, yes, but also of conversations. Admissions of her past life. _Her name_.

She breathed deep and waited for him to take whatever action he would. She struggled to remain alert, though wakefulness was permanent to her now. If he expected concentration he would be disappointed.

_Remove the chains_.

The chains? She looked up as the mechanisms failed; her hands slid from the braces and she collapsed to the floor. In moments, her arms lit on fire with renewed sensations. She lay there flinching and panted. Would this burning never end?

Eventually the sensation eased to a dull itch. She raised one hand and rubbed it against the other arm, shaking. The floor was stone, as the rest of the room, and cold.

_See how powerless you are. How alone. What is there to dream for in your prison cell?_

She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself to fight the cold. Even her skin was cold to the touch; there was no warmth here. _Lynn Creed,_ she thought without remembering why. _My name is Lynn Creed. And I want to go home._

Bare gray flesh poked out from the monster's billowing robe. She twisted her eyes to look the opposite direction, where she'd never seen, and discovered no door at all, but a gaping maw. She was in a cave with one exit. One exit...and one chaperon.

She never knew if she succeeded because of surprise. Her actions couldn't be called quick, but they were shocking in that she took them at all. She reached to pull the gag from her face and the monster let her. She was no threat as she was, broken and whimpering at every move. She kept up the sounds of discomfort until the gag pulled free. She held it in the front and center, so that the sharp outer edges were facing outward. And she jammed those sharp edges through the gray flesh.

When he howled she pushed to her hands and knees, crawled to the cave entrance, and pulled herself to her feet. The creature already advanced; she threw herself forward and ran, ran as fast as her damaged feet could carry her. She already heard noises billowing from all sides, more creatures closing in on their prey. She ran her hands against the wall and sought out something, _anything_ to help her.

A small cranny opened in the floor, a miniature pathway small enough for a child...or a starved woman. She crawled inside and hugged her knees tight to her chest. Creatures ran past by the dozens, howling and snarling as they sought her out. The monster limped past; she saw the dark blood he left in his path.

She froze and tried not to breathe. More creatures, more howling, more rage. The voice said nothing; she could not know that the Chitauri did not alert their master to the escaped prey for fear of His wrath, and so the titan did not seek out her mind.

More time passed and she stopped gripping her legs so tightly. They hadn't found her despite moving through her line of sight; the steps were less common now. They were convinced she had escaped further up the tunnels and were searching the higher altitudes for traces of her route. She leaned her head against the cranny wall and counted to one thousand. By the time she was done, the footsteps had stopped altogether.

She unfurled herself and crawled forward, unwilling to waste precious time. She braced against the wall and walked in the direction the footsteps moved, reasoning that this was the closest to _out_ she might come. She heard renewed roars in the distance sometimes, and would freeze where she stood and wait to be caught. But the creatures' noises moved ever further away.

She walked until she came to a fork. The cave gave way to a larger space which split into five openings in opposing directions. She listened at the mouth of the first and heard that same distant howling; she moved to the next and heard nothing at all. At the third she paused. This tunnel was thin, and a warm breeze touched her shivering skin. She ignored the final two caves and followed the pleasant sensation.

The heat grew more persistent the further she walked into the stone corridor, until even the floor felt heated under her feet. She sighed and leaned against the wall to bask for a moment, until the shivering died away and she could flex her warmed fingers. That something so luscious as heat could exist in this place baffled her. How did they know what this even was? She'd become convinced they were creatures of cold and darkness, and in this cave the warmth seemed produced by a soft glow ahead.

She pushed from the wall and kept walking until she found herself inside the source. The cave widened into a vast expanse. Nine pedestals with what appeared to be large round stones circled a giant pedestal in the middle. The stone upon this pedestal was no stone at all, but a projection of the sun itself contained inside of a shimmering blue light. The stones were also contained in this same light, and she stepped further into the room to study the first she found.

The stone on the closest pedestal was not smooth; mountainous regions covered the surface, sharp and jagged and uninviting. When she raised a hand to the soft blue light, she felt cold pressing against her palm. She stepped back and moved to the next.

This stone was more familiar. Now, with more than barbed mountains to conceal the truth, she realized what she was seeing. The blue and gray areas frothed in the distance; the land alternated between green, brown and white. She sucked in a breath and looked across the room. Her starved eyes found that which she sought, and she limped across the warm stone and held her hands on either side of the planet she best knew.

_Home_, she thought, and tears sprang to her eyes as she gazed at that which she wanted most. _Home_.

But how to get there? She lowered her hands and studied the pedestal, sensing that the blue light did not want to be touched. She could respect its unspoken wishes, but she needed another way. She pressed her hands against the smooth pedestal and found grooves and indentations under her fingers. If she pressed, would it take her there? She was ready, so ready to go home, but her hands froze before she pressed in. What would they do, with her gone? Who else would suffer? And more than that, they'd come to Earth once before and killed hundreds. If this were a portal, they'd do the same and worse in the future. Now they knew what humans could do, didn't they? That humans, when provoked, showed no mercy to a foe. Her short time here showed her how deeply they loathed their defeat and wanted revenge. They would return, and stronger, and kill more, so many more; perhaps thousands, if not millions…

She felt water on her cheeks as she searched the room for something, _anything_ to use as a weapon. Would they come before she finished? She had little time and imagined even less. Surely they would come before she finished, before she could carry out her only method of defense against their alien forces –

Her hands closed around the metal staff leaned against the far wall. It hummed in her hands and the bright jewel encased in the topmost section shimmered against her wet gaze. It was heavy and she struggled to lift it above her head as she approached the image of the planet she wanted to see again. She ignored her own pleas for mercy and lifted the staff above the illusion of Earth. She hesitated one moment when she realized the globe was turning where it hovered in the air. Turning on that same axis as for the last millenia, the same axis that caused the warm days and cool nights. She stared at her home and froze. If she did this, she would never see either of those again. If they could not forgive her for actions she hadn't taken, how would they treat her once she took an action of her own?

The staff came down, and the illusion faltered but a moment. She let out a scream and brought it down again, and again. She wasn't strong enough to rupture the mechanisms on her first blow but continued until the contraption had no choice but to buckle under the continued succession of beating. Earth wavered, flickered, and finally vanished from her sight. She sobbed and continued beating the contraption with all of her weakened strength. It was gone, and her life gone with it.

_Desist_.

She fell to her knees and dropped the scepter. The voice was louder, booming, drowning her in its force. She clamped her hands to her ears and gritted her teeth. This was worse than imagined; in all the intonation from that voice, she'd never heard _anger_.

_Filthy creature. Scum! You attempt to protect your realm from our rages? You will learn of rage, little mortal. You will learn to regret what you've done._

She did regret it. She wanted to go home with every fiber of her being, yet wanted home to exist with just one fiber more. She understood the voice, though. It did not speak of regretting her decision to exile herself; it spoke of her decision to disobey their intentions and set their vengeance upon humans back. The voice would make her pay for taking an action it hadn't foreseen, and she would know nothing but pain until it felt satisfied in the lesson.

Still, the pedestal stood. She took the scepter and regained her feet by leaning against it. The Earth was gone, but flickers of that blue energy remained. She raised the scepter and shoved the sharpest edge directly into the center of the contraption. The blue flickered, and grew, and slammed outward to defend itself. She screamed and fell back as the pedestal exploded.

Burning, burning everywhere. Her torso was on fire; bits of the shattered stone seared her skin where the blast had not. She rolled to her side and covered her head with one arm; moments later the debris fell, raining against her in the soft patter of broken dreams.

She heard footsteps she didn't recognize. Large, heavy, steady. She kept her arm over her head to protect herself, but this was not the monster from before. He did not need contact to cause her pain.

A pounding started behind her eyes, so strong it blinded her to the world. She succumbed with a soft cry; and despite the mandate that she would not sleep, the strength of that fury washed away consciousness as silt in the ocean tide.


	5. Strategy

Tony liked noise. He surrounded himself with as much of it as possible, as often as possible, and then played rock and roll one decibel higher. Pepper was working on the other side of the room from where Tony fiddled with another prototype design. She took her work to other rooms in the tower when Tony was absent, but when he was here made a point to stay within sight. If she wasn't where he could see her, he sought her out and set up shop where she was. It seemed he didn't want her too far when he knew where she was, and she changed her own work habits to accommodate his needs.

"Miss Potts, Thor Odinson is requesting to speak with Mr. Stark." JARVIS spoke directly from the speakers on either side of her computer screen. Pepper minimized the document she was working on and leaned in close to focus on the A.I.'s words. Even so close, she could just make him out.

"I'm sorry, JARVIS?"

"Thor Odinson wishes to speak with Mr. Stark."

Thor, the real Thor. Pepper was still trying to get used to the idea. She'd been raised with some religion, and although she was non-practicing the knowledge that Thor and all his relatives had once come to Earth and started a religion of their own raised questions she didn't want answered.

"Send him up, JARVIS."

"I feel I should inform you that he is bringing a guest."

Who could Thor have brought? "Does this guest have a name?" She clicked an icon to pull up video feed and see for herself, curious about who a thunder god would bring along for a conversation with Tony Stark.

"Oh," she said. This couldn't be good. Loki here, in the tower he'd destroyed not half a year ago. Tony would be furious - and she couldn't say she was happy either. Why would Thor bring him _here_?

"Would you like me to send them away?" The computer sounded concerned. Even the A.I. knew this was a bad idea. So why didn't the god?

"Give me a minute, JARVIS."

"As you wish."

Pepper switched off the monitor and stood to interrupt Tony's work. The billionaire didn't look up from his schematic when she approached, but the music volume lowered to a level where they could have a conversation.

"Thanks, JARVIS. What's up?"

Pepper looked at the diagram hovering in front of Tony's face. "JARVIS, bring up the video." An image of Thor, with Loki at his side, appeared. Tony glanced up and back down, focused on his work.

"Yeah, he took the littlest prince away."

"Sir, they are -"

"Tony, they're here."

Both voices spoke at once and Tony looked up again to check the video more closely. Sure enough, there were signs that this wasn't from months ago. Loki looked distinctly un-gagged for one, and Thor looked angry enough to spit nails.

"The hell? What is _he_ doing here?"

"Thor has requested to speak with you, sir." JARVIS sounded concerned again, and Pepper understood why. Even if the A.I. wasn't alive, the man at Thor's side had done everything he could to destroy Tony, the tower and everything else nearby.

Tony jumped from his chair and pressed a large green call button on the side. The intercom crackled, and then a mellow voice greeted him.

"What's up, Tony?"

"Get up here. _Fast_."

A moment of hesitation; they heard assorted rustling and papers. Bruce was old-school in his scientific approach and still preferred paper to Tony's myriad of electric gadgets.

"I'm in the middle of something, can it -"

"I might need the big guy up here." Tony waved his hand through the video feed to enlarge it. Loki was still wearing the cuffs, which was promising, and with his brother right next to him the god wasn't likely to cause much trouble. Tony wasn't taking chances. "JARVIS, monitor their location at all times while they're here. Got it?"

"Yes, sir."

A quiet _ding_ and the private elevator door slid open to reveal Dr. Bruce Banner. Banner walked into the room looking worried and a little shy. He'd accepted that the Hulk could be a force for good, but it didn't change the years of isolation and shame from making him hesitate to use that power unless absolutely necessary.

"What's going on?" The doctor looked between Pepper and Tony, then saw the video feed on Tony's computer. His eyes widened for a moment.

"Guess who," Tony said. "I guess Thor needs to talk to us. With Loki. Here."

The three exchanged a look among themselves. Banner finally positioned himself close to Tony's monitor, which put him behind Pepper and Tony. He'd be less threatening from here - not that Dr. Banner was threatening, but everyone who would be part of this conversation knew better - and if the Other Guy was needed the room was too small for it to take a more than a moment to rush forward.

Tony seemed at a momentary loss, and Pepper spoke to the monitor for him.

"Send them up." Tony looked at Pepper and opened his mouth to ask her to leave. She narrowed a prim look at him and waited for him to try. He changed his mind and strolled to the center of the room, where he crossed his arms and waited for the fireworks.

It was Pepper who greeted them at the elevator, pure professional detachment. Thor ducked his head in respect for the woman and led his brother into the room. That the woman greeted them might have irked the trickster until he saw the positioning of the men inside the room as well. Stark presented little worry without that infernal costume he wore, but the other...

Loki decided, against his better judgment, to behave for the time being.

"Whatever you want, is he really part of it?" Tony's annoyance flavored his speech and Pepper moved closer to the tense billionaire. Thor looked to his brother, then nodded.

"Aye, friend Stark. There is grave circumstance which requires your assistance - and his."

"Is it the woman?" All of them looked at Dr. Banner, who looked at Tony with surprise. "What, you didn't read the email? It was a whole report."

Tony shook his head. Banner fiddled with his hands, then moved to the holographic monitor and waved a hand through the projection. Nothing happened, and he tried again. JARVIS piped up.

"May I be of assistance, Dr. Banner?"

"Bring up that report, would you?"

The emailed shifted into view, and the attachments spread across several monitors. Witness reports, pictures, and a composite sketch of the perpetrator. Tony narrowed his eyes on the sketch.

"Who's the tourist?"

"That is where my brother's assistance is principal. We must discover both the identity and bearing of this creature, to liberate Lynn Creed from the Chitauri." Thor was crestfallen and ashamed, that his brother withheld information which could save this poor mortal -

"What about why? Do we know why they took her?"

"We do, friend Banner. She was taken as restitution in my brother's stead, to suffer for his failure to deliver to them the spoils of Earth."

"Wait," Tony said. "Just wait. They took her to bug _Loki_?" Loki shot him a murderous glare and the billionaire glared right back.

"I do not comprehend the rationale behind this maneuver, friend Stark. I only know that this is the action taken, and we must face the consequences."

Iron Man looked at Pepper, who raised two perfect eyebrows and nodded. He sighed.

"Guess it's time to call in the troops."

* * *

Stark Tower was the chosen rendezvous since it was spacious, easy to find and the largest possible destination that any of them had save for the SHIELD carrier. Bruce refused to board the carrier again unless absolutely necessary, and Tony took the heat for demanding that they use his tower instead.

Thor stayed near Loki and Tony monitored the younger god's whereabouts with constant video feed from JARVIS. They'd made sure to tell Nick - and in effect, Steve, Natasha and Clint - about their special guest and everything they knew of this arrival. Thor assured them all that his brother's power was well contained, to deaf ears. When the spies arrived, weapons were hung from every available limb. Clint's bow was already open and loaded, and Steve was dressed in his uniform with the hood down and holding his shield at an angle, prepared to fling it at a moment's notice.

Loki was demure yet calculating. Even silent, they all knew he plotted. It was _what_ he plotted that they couldn't guess.

"Alright, Thor," Steve began once they were all present and accounted for. Despite the large room, with so many people it was cramped and Tony kept a constant pacing in a loose perimeter around Pepper. "You've got us here. Does he know where the girl was taken?"

Thor waited a moment, in order to give his brother a chance to divulge what he knew of the Chitauri. The trickster remained mute, his attention fixed on the smallest and physically weakest Avenger. Natasha, like the others, watched him back. The trickster smiled serenely at her and she felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise in response to the unspoken threat. Of all the Avengers, she was the only one who defeated him on his own ground, and in his position she knew she would want revenge- and how she would take it. She looked at Thor to take her mind away from Loki's threats, both spoken and unspoken.

The thunder god began, and told them everything he knew. When he explained Loki's sentence the trickster commenced surveying the room. He moved to take a step and two guns, an arrow and a red, white and blue shield prepared to strike him down. Even Banner stepped forward and removed his glasses, a clear sign of his impending change in physical stature.

The god stilled and instead performed mental critiques of all present. The soldier was simple enough; he, like Thor, wore his emotions plain on his face and rarely spoke in a deceptive manner. He was the leader of this motley crew, though they seemed to take turns allowing each other to step into the light for a time. Still, at the heart of their conviction sat this man's commitment to the cause. He would severe that heart, and with it their morale.

The metal-clad man was uninspiring without his hefty armour to grant weight to his figure and steps. Loki had come close to killing him once; a simple and more direct route would suffice in the future. However, his attachment to the tall red-haired woman was plain in how he circled around her without directly interacting with her. If there was a center of Tony Stark's world, it revolved around this woman. Loki stored the information away.

He had already conquered the archer's frail mind once, which led to the conclusion that he might succeed in manipulating the man again. There was a clear goal in mind: a promise made and yet to be delivered. He would enjoy picking them both apart, the spy and her wary shield-mate. He wondered if the archer's screams upon seeing his fine, detailed precision upon the woman he called friend would be as sweet as Loki imagined them to be. It would be his greatest pleasure, to witness that final victory over both.

The green beast presented the most issue. His human form was more deceiving a form than the trickster had ever attempted, for how helpless and unassuming the man appeared. It was simple madness to provoke the man only to waken the beast, and it appeared that any moves which endangered that same man were provocations. The trickster resolved to think on this later, for he realized Thor had addressed him and was awaiting a response. Loki scanned the eyes upon him and paused upon the mismatched set.

At least here was a familiar ground. Nick Fury's one eye was poor substitute for the All-Father's keen gaze, but it sufficed as a reminder of consequences not yet imposed. The trickster responded to the inquiry; despite his wandering thoughts, he knew what was asked of him and how to reply.

"I cannot reveal what I am ignorant of, Odinson. I do not know where she is housed, nor how to approach." The director's eye narrowed, as did Clint and Natasha's. They understood they were being played, better than any other assembled.

Save one.

"Bull," Tony declared, and Loki twisted himself to look at the impassioned inventor. "You know exactly where they are, don't you? Or how about this - that portal is a good place to start."

Loki tilted his head and laughed through the side of his mouth. The smirk couldn't quite dissipate as he spoke again.

"You must have the Tesseract -"

"We do."

"-and the appropriate pathways to guide its way. I cannot direct the Tesseract's energy without the use of my abilities."

"But we can. Remember? You taught us that trick. Or let us learn it. Either way, we can do it."

This gave the trickster pause. The rest of the team looked to each other, and Dr. Banner gave Nick a subtle nod to agree with Tony's assertion. Now Loki understood his presence here; not as a method of forcing him to comply, but as a reminder of their own power - and perhaps guidance on how to once again wield that power. Though he relied on the actions of others during so much of his plot, the schematics for the machine which ultimately opened the portal had come from Loki's own design.

Yet why would they need his assistance? They had Selvig and the hawk, his wayward allies during the attempted conquest. Unless -

"Ah, now I see." The trickster sounded more amused now, and the tension surrounding him rose in response. Where Loki was amused, nothing good would come. "You struggle to understand the schematic and need assistance in deciphering the less familiar designs."

"That's right," Nick replied. "And you're going to help us. With or without your cooperation."

Loki creased his brow and took the previously denied step forward, toward Fury, spreading his bound hands. "And how will I assist without cooperation?"

"I am sorry, brother."

It was the only warning received before Thor pressed the edge of Loki's spear, glowing with Tesseract energy, directly into the center of Loki's chest. There was a moment of shock, denial and fury, followed only by a calming wave of blue.

The trickster blinked and then remained still. Clint lowered his bow and looked at Nat, who caught the archer's sardonic smile.

"Well, I feel better all of a sudden." He looked to Thor. "How long does this get us?

"Loki's mind is too powerful to be overcome with such ease. He will fight the bonds which hold him now, and succeed in the end. We have little time to waste."

"Thor," Steve began, to be interrupted by Tony.

"Save it, Cap. We don't have time to argue over how bad this makes you feel."

"I fear I must agree, Steve Rogers." The thunder god neither boomed nor declared; he merely stated fact. "Should I release Loki of this binding, he will undock our duty to Lynn Creed, who I fear will perish while we battle wits with him."

Steve pressed his lips together and said nothing. Thor turned again to Loki, who watched him with interest and a shocking lack of defiance.

"You will educate Tony Stark and Banner on the inner workings of that which you developed and commanded."

The god of treachery looked past Thor at the two scientists and scoffed. "Them? They will hardly understand at all, brother. I would have better advantage explaining the stars to a dog."

"Well," Tony said, "At least we know the sass is the same. I'm not sure what I would've done without being called names."

Thor ignored him, distracted by Loki's title for the thunder god. Loki had not acknowledged their kinship since before the attack on Midgard. Thor ached to speak with his brother as they had before, as equals, with none of the madness of the past years as a barrier between them. Loki looked at him now, his eyes a brilliant blue, and Thor realized that any conversation now would be as false as Loki presumed their bond to be. To the question in Loki's expression, he only nodded. "You will do this, and assist without complaint."

"Yes, brother," the trickster replied. "Though I cannot guarantee it will be worthwhile."

* * *

Nick was in the middle of yet another verbal sparring match with the Council when Steve found him. They were demanding his formidable resources be used to detain the war criminal, now that he was within reach. Nick disagreed with his usual insistence.

"I will not give Asgard a reason to think of us as enemies. He is under their jurisdiction -"

"A jurisdiction on the other side of a wormhole, Director. If Loki is here now -"

"He is in custody and under surveillance, but he is granted the same amnesty as any other prisoner. We extradite them when their countries ask to keep the peace."

"This is not another country."

"No. It's another world - one that could destroy Earth, if we pissed them off. Remember that before you override my executive command and order a strike."

"At least bring them aboard the carrier -"

"The materials we need are in Stark Tower, so that's where we're staying."

He swiped his hand against the display to cut off the call and shook his head. When he turned, he found Steve politely waiting for him to finish his conversation. For once, he wished the Captain had interrupted.

"Problems?"

"Nothing your team needs to worry about - yet. What can I do for you Captain?"

Captain America, embodiment of all that was courageous and just in the American way, levelled Nick with a stare that made him happy the Captain was on his side. Under the intensity of that stare, Nick gave an inch to save himself a mile of running.

"This is necessary, Captain. He'll be released when he's done teaching Banner and Stark everything he knows. Until then, this is the fastest way to save Lynn Creed's life."

"So two wrongs make a right, Director?"

"Collateral." Nick waited for the implications of his chosen reply to sink in, then continued. "We harness the Tesseract for one last mission, and then send it and Loki back where they belong."

"Assuming the Council doesn't override your authority and order a strike?"

The corner of Nick's mouth twitched. "Yes, assuming that."

Steve left, none the happier but with new purpose. The whole situation raised massive alarm bells and he was fighting to accept that this was the best way to help the woman - and possibly Earth. Nick's comment about "one last mission" was a message, loud and clear. They weren't just expected to save one person. They were expected to finish the war before the next battle could start.

Steve was troubled by how the world had changed. He'd fallen under the ice before the end of World War II and missed the American maneuver which had won the war and set a horrific precedent of the ends justifying the means, _any_ means. In his time back he'd poured over footage, reports, first-hand accounts...a tragedy at the hands of the country he served and represented so proudly. It didn't sit well with him, and it never would. He kept those thoughts to himself. That Captain America might be disillusioned with America wasn't something he thought his handlers would take kindly to. Now questionable means were so ingrained into strategy that only he, the old-fashioned out of time soldier, questioned them. When Tony put that nuke into orbit to the cheering of SHIELD and his comrades, the Captain decided to keep his mouth shut.

Once he reached the door he wanted, Steve knocked and waited for the door to open. When it did, Thor's weary greeting told him everything he needed to know. He'd made the right decision coming here.

"Steve Rogers," Thor said, and then stopped. As though he wanted to conceal his thoughts until they were pried from him. Steve wasn't one to pry, but he couldn't have one of his team faltering without at least trying to help them recover.

"Thor. I wanted to check on you, see how you're doing." The Captain moved inside of the room once Thor stepped aside, then stopped only three steps in. He didn't like to invade another's space, and going any further felt like an invasion. The thunder god looked lost in the center of his room. Steve broke the quiet by getting to the point.

"I had a friend who was as good as a brother. If I'd had to do to him, what you've done to Loki -"

"I did what I must to ensure the safety of your realm, and the woman Lynn Creed. My brother suffers not under the curse of the Tesseract."

Steve caught the hesitation and the flicker of pain. His lips were now set into a grim line. "Thor, I get it. I understand. It doesn't make it...better. Or even good."

"No," the thunder god agreed. "It does not."

"How long should the spell last?"

"I am uncertain. We may have mere hours before his will supersedes that of the scepter."

"Then let's make the most of it. We'll stick around to make sure he doesn't do anything you know he wouldn't."

Thor seemed confused. "Already he is pressed against his will -"

"I meant...out of character. For your brother."

Thor nodded, and they left to observe the happenings below.

* * *

"So the doohickey calibrates the directional force?"

"It may, though Selvig's design is modified. I cannot discern his full intention from this diagram." Loki might have been helping, but it certainly wasn't willingly. Even with the scepter commanding him to grant aid to his enemies he fought, and spoke in circles to confuse them. Tony was impressed; from how Clint described this spell, there wasn't any fighting or denying. There was only doing.

"Alright," Banner said, "then what _can_ you tell us?"

Loki grinned without humor.

"It will work. I cannot predict how accurately."

Steve and Thor entered the room at that point and Tony, exasperated, turned to Thor to make some new demands.

"Can't you turn the whammy up on him?"

"I am unfamiliar with the Tesseract's power and would be unable to increase its effect."

"Yeah. Great." Tony returned to the war of wills with the god and Thor approached the machine they were constructing. Already the remnants resembled the previous unit, and Thor felt that this task might conclude earlier than planned. Steve approached also, keeping himself close to Thor in case the elder god made a rash decision. Dr. Banner was examining the schematics again, his expression on the verge of understanding Loki's original design, and Clint hovered in the background with his bow loaded and ready. Waiting for Loki to make a move and justify letting that arrow fly.

Natasha was nowhere to be found. Steve would've asked after her, but Bruce suddenly exclaimed.

"That's it! Tony, c'mere. Look at this..."

The scientists huddled together and Loki watched with growing aggravation. His eyes were still that stark blue, bright and unyielding. He looked at his brother and smiled a terrible smile.

"Look, brother," he rasped. "The mortals have discovered my secrets -"

The blue was leaking away and his natural color beginning to shine through. As the Tesseract's power waned, Loki remained as he was, standing apart from the scientists and watching Thor with hostility. "That you, _you_, would deign to command me..."

"Guys, he's come out of it." Clint had knocked the arrow and was ready to fire, right into the first eye socket he found. The trickster stepped in his direction and the arrow loosed; Loki caught it and sneered, then threw the arrow away, now knowing better than to retain it. It clattered against the floor and did nothing; Clint didn't want to blow up Stark Tower unless he absolutely needed to. But he did have another arrow waiting to fly.

"Fool," the trickster hissed, "simpleton! Does it anger you now, to see how I shake off the same spell which claimed you so fully?"

"Little bit." Clint was nonplussed. Loki liked to talk and that suited the archer just fine. As long as he was speaking, he was easy to find.

"Brother, cease this -"

"_We are not brothers_." Thor looked wounded and concealed his hurt away. Steve squared off to Loki instead, and waited for the speech he knew was coming.

"I thought, in my plans, that I would kill you first," Loki said to the Captain. He was rasping, had been rasping since the blue faded from his eyes. A sign of his risen temper, though the god remained in place now. "But now, seeing you here - it would be better, then, to break you last. Let you see the mighty Avengers falter and fall under-"

The scepter was there, and it was pressed into his back; a little further to reach the heart, but it was reached all the same and the blue flooded his eyes again. The trickster went still and Natasha lowered the scepter.

"Get back to work," she said, and then took herself and the scepter from the room to leave the men to boggle over the spy's mysteries. Tony and Bruce set upon Loki; he'd only just been spelled, which made him the most complacent possible, and they had no qualms taking advantage.

Steve and Thor stayed behind to monitor his brother's actions.


	6. Compromise

"Thor, there's a visitor here for you."

It was strange to hear another voice in place of Coulson's as their official SHIELD liaison. Maria Hill did them all the courtesy of not trying to replace Phil's familiarity, and kept herself professionally distant from each of the Avengers when she interacted with them. Still, Tony made a point to learn her first name and use it as often as possible.

Or perhaps abuse it.

"Maria, Mariaaaaa, you remind me of -"

"Who is it," Steve asked on behalf of the thunder god, who appeared wholly confused about who might have come to see him. Maria beckoned Thor from the room, who was flanked by Tony and Steve to see who this newcomer might be. Another Asgardian come to visit?

Maria explained while they walked. "Another expert. We noticed that you're struggling with the design -" Tony snorted and started to speak, and she kept right on - "and we don't want to waste time."

"This new person got experience with interdimensional physics?" Tony was bristling, insulted by the insinuation that he and Banner couldn't finish their jobs in a timely manner - or ever.

"More than you."

As they walked further and further from the room where the Tesseract machine, and thus Loki, remained, Thor became more anxious. Maria Hill apparently believed that whoever this person was, they needed to be kept far away from the trickster. This left one option. Barton seemed unaffected by Loki's presence most days, though the archer avoided being in the room alone with Loki when he could help it, but there was another who might be both useful on this project and had direct experience with the previously crafted machine. Thor hoped that Erik Selvig could tolerate Loki's presence.

They entered the Stark Tower lounge area and an instant later a thick notebook clattered against Thor's breastplate and fell to the ground. The thunder god looked chastised before the guest spoke one word. Tony patted his arm in a show of solidarity.

"Just apologize, it's not worth it to argue." Without waiting for Maria, Tony stepped forward and offered a hand. "Miss Foster, I'm Tony Stark. It's a _pleasure_ to meet you."

Despite the anger burning in her eyes she shook Tony's hand and even smiled. "Thanks. Can't wait to pick your brain. Could you give me a minute?"

Tony stepped back and gestured to Thor, who still looked as though he'd been caught stealing extra treats before a meal. Jane raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms, fuming.

"Well?"

"Ah." The thunder god gathered himself and beamed at her with pleasure. "Jane! I am glad to -"

"You didn't contact me, didn't even _try_ -"

Steve grabbed Tony's arm and tugged, nodding respectfully to Jane as he excused himself. ''Ma'am.'' Tony resisted and was dragged while Maria trailed behind the two men. He gained his feet and walked on his own just as they exited the room. Jane never took her glare from Thor.

"Jane, I am sorry." The thunder god saw no reason to decline Tony's suggestion, as the woman he loved seemed ready to split his skull open with her bare hands and he didn't want to waste time arguing with her.

"Are you?" She bent down to pick up her notebook and dusted off one side, her speech rushed. She was _riled_. "I hear the news reports and they say that Thor's fighting aliens - Thor! So I found videos and there you were.'' The glare returned to him. "And then you left."

"I did not want you in danger."

"That's my choice to make!"

"And you would have chosen poorly." There wasn't a kind way to say it, so he delivered the message with gentle tone and staunch resolve. "If I asked you to stay away, you would ignore my request and place yourself in the midst of danger."

"I would've listened -"

"As you listened before?" He waited for the words to strike and her anger to dim a bit. "This was not the same, Jane. My brother is filled with rage and motivated by his need to take that which I care for. He took Selvig for that purpose, and I cannot imagine what he might've done if he'd gained access to you."

Rage was obvious enough. Loki had meant to enslave the entire Earth, from how Fury told it. She hesitated. "Nick said he's here now. And we're working with him."

"Yes." Thor crossed his own arms to mimic her stance. Weariness leaked across his features and he allowed her to see how exhausted he truly was. "He is spelled into obedience, but the magic is fickle and I am not as skilled as he."

"He's spelled? You spelled him?"

"Aye."

"Your brother?" She paused a moment, then made a decision. "You'll tell me about it?"

Thor nodded. Jane's resolution to stay angry fell away and she reached forward to him. He dropped his arms and embraced her all at once, wrapping her as tight as he dared.

"I did miss you, Jane," he said. "It is only that I feared what would happen, if he learned..."

She pulled away and shook her head. "I get it. Just next time - couldn't you at least call?" He smiled and drew her close for a long, lingering, familiar kiss.

* * *

When Thor reappeared in the work room with Jane, Tony cursed and handed a twenty to Steve, who looked smug. His only explanation was a sly sideways glance at Jane, who entered behind Thor and saw the bet being lost.

"Didn't think we'd see you again today."

Jane blushed and stuttered with a quick glance at her beau, who stayed protectively close to her. Dr. Banner approached and offered his hand with a friendly smile, which Jane returned.

"Dr. Foster. We're happy to have you."

"Thanks. Where are you at with it?"

"I'll show you, if you'd just come over -"

They both froze when they noticed Loki's hard stare. He was leaned against a work bench on the distant side of the room, keeping himself further away from the humans present. Jane resisted the urge to clear her throat and shuffle, instead meeting that glare with one of her own. Thor had assured her that he, Stark and Banner would be more than enough to keep the younger god at bay.

"Ah," the trickster said behind brilliant blue eyes, and bowed deep to Jane. "The lady who holds my brother's heart."

She thought the bow was mocking, and her suspicion was confirmed when Thor bristled. And yet…Loki didn't look like the overconfident mass murderer she'd expected. To the contrary, though he was almost as tall as Thor, he looked young, and lost, and gaunt in his green finery. Something tender opened in the scientist as she looked him over. Thor had told her some of their history from before the invasion. Seeing him now, it was easier to see that this was a man who flung himself into an abyss - and emerged from the other side.

He was also a murderer who'd lost his mind. She wasn't about to forget how dangerous he was, especially with the chains on his wrists clinking every time he moved. Thor had told her how he was spinning them even under the spell, and that the spell was temporary at best. They had a deadline to meet, which meant it was time to get to work.

Jane removed her jacket and threw it across the back of the first chair she found, already distracted by the machine in the center of the room. Selvig had told her of the Tesseract's original compartment, and what he'd learned while under its influence. She didn't care for the methods, but the scientist in her appreciated the knowledge and wanted to see it working in person. The only way for that to happen was to figure out these schematics which Stark and Banner were both struggling to decipher. Banner gave her a copy as she approached the machine and she held the papers at an angle to read as she walked. She stopped a few feet away and compared the notes in her hand to the physical representation in front of her, and shook her head.

"You've made the parts too big."

"What?" Tony sidled closer to peer over her shoulder, as though he might hear her thoughts.

"It's too big. You didn't convert the measurements, that's the problem."

Tony's mouth snapped open, then he blurted - "Are you saying we just did a Mars Orbiter?"

"Yeah. I guess…Asgardian to metrics. See, here, I think this shows the conversion Selvig had to do..."

They bent together as she reworked the numbers. Banner handed her a pen and she did a simple conversions box, then began the complicated task of converting whatever an Asgardian unit of measurement was to metric. Banner laughed and leaned back to look at Tony, who looked insulted. Loki watched Jane with narrowed eyes, and Thor thought, even through the spell, that he might have spotted the rare signs of his brother impressed. The trickster begrudged any admission of his regard, even when under his own control, and Thor was pleased to know that Jane's intelligence made an impression, however small.

* * *

Construction dragged on into days, and then a week, and while Thor was glad for the extended time to spend with Jane, he was anxious to be done with the ordeal.

To further his agitation, Loki was again gagged and imprisoned within Stark Tower. The scepter's spell faltered twice more as the scientists scrambled to build the Tesseract's containment vessel, and each time with less delay. They'd gotten enough out of him the third time to dismiss any remaining usefulness, and the god was led to a familiar cell to languish alone. Though this cell was not 30,000 feet above the ground, it contained fortified walls built to house a far stronger being. Dr. Banner insisted on its construction, and Tony gave in where Dr. Banner was concerned.

Thor made a point to visit his brother every morning and evening, and sometimes removed the metal gag to allow his brother conversation - which Loki often declined. There was no talk of food or drink and Loki never requested either. Even so, his apparent ability to subsist on air alone made the human residents queasy, and it was Director Fury who finally approached Thor with the suggestion that his brother be given regular meals if he was to stay within the prison. Thor agreed, and if the trickster were grateful they never heard word of it.

In the meantime, Jane threw herself into the study of the Tesseract's abilities in regards to portal formation. Selvig's notes were an excellent outline but only told a portion of the story, as though a large chunk of the information were kept away from prying eyes. She pulled Barton aside to ask him about his time under the Tesseract's influence, and ask if it could explain Selvig's apparent ability to remember small details without writing many of them down. Clint immediately nodded.

"It tells you things. Like a - a guide."

"A guide?" Jane stared at the notes in front of her. She'd taken twelve pages in her own notebook writing out the equations, thoughts and guidelines which Erik had written in barely half of one. "So it _told_ him how to do this?"

"Yeah." Barton scratched the back of his head, as though feeling a distant, phantom itch of the Tesseract's influence. "You'd just know what you needed to know to do what he wanted."

"As in Loki."

Barton nodded and appeared to say "yes," though he spoke so quietly she couldn't make out the word. She sighed. She'd have to get possessed by the Tesseract, and in turn Loki, in order to fully understand what Selvig saw in his minimal equations. Thor wouldn't go for it, which meant she'd have to keep working manually and hope for the best.

She put in a SHIELD-monitored call to Erik later that evening to discuss his findings. To her surprise, he knew what she was up to and told her that he'd refused specifically to incite her involvement.

"I knew you'd want to see Thor if you could."

"Thanks. Well, him and his brother -"

"Yes. Another reason I didn't want to be involved." A pause, and then a worried tone. "He hasn't tried to hurt you?" Jane laughed.

"Erik, he can't even get close to me. Between Thor and Dr. Banner, and Steve, and not to mention Stark, who is _way_ more obnoxious in person -"

"He does have that reputation."

"Yeah well, you have no idea. And then there's SHIELD. There's enough bodyguards here to protect the President from this guy."

Erik wasn't convinced, and she could tell he was irritated by how strong his accent sounded now. "Jane, listen to me: you must _stay away_ from Loki. He's dangerous." She couldn't argue that he wasn't and she couldn't say she'd stay away. Her track record with following commands from Selvig was about as stellar as the one for Thor.

"Business only, Erik. We're almost done anyway. I'll call you in a week, 'k?"

"Be safe, Jane."

* * *

Two days later, the Avengers, sans Thor, and Director Fury were assembled in the workroom, examining the contraption. It was much smaller than the machine Selvig constructed, but Tony pointed out that they weren't transporting an entire army.

Steve didn't want to know how the machine worked. He knew Tony wanted to explain it; he could practically feel the scientist's excitement buzzing in the air. _Ask me_, it begged, _ask me how it works_!

Steve didn't care how. He just cared that it did.

"So it works?" Steve asked Dr. Banner, since he tended to give a more direct answer. Bruce nodded as he replied.

"If the alloys hold up it'll work. We just need coordinates."

"Do we have them?"

"Ah...no. He won't give us any." Bruce removed his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. "To be honest, I don't think he knows any. I think he was sent here."

"Sent here?" Steve raised his eyebrows and glanced at Tony, who nodded agreement. "By who? The Chitauri?" Tony shook his head as he fiddled with a knob.

"Nah, couldn't be them. They're hivemind lackeys. I say it was someone else, someone higher up the food chain."

"So Loki controlled the Chitauri, and someone else controlled Loki?"

Bruce shrugged. "Maybe. In the meantime, we're stuck with a really nice new car and no map."

Steve thought a moment, then left to find someone who could help. Maybe Loki wasn't cooperative, but he wasn't the only Asgardian here. Bruce sat and rubbed his head again, and Tony shook his shoulder just enough to get his attention.

"No nodding off on me."

"Ah...sorry. I feel like I did on the carrier. That thing's poking my brain."

"The scepter?" Bruce nodded. "Don't worry, we'll leave soon and it'll be worlds away."

"Why's that?" Clint, who remained so quiet while he observed and recorded details in his head, stepped forward from the corner of the room. "It's a weapon, isn't it? We can't be picky about what we use here." Tony gave him a nasty look, which he returned.

"You gonna volunteer to use it? I'm sure that'll help those nightmares right out."

"Not for me - Natasha can carry it. She's already used it. She'll be better off with a larger weapon if we're gonna fight Chitauri on their home turf."

"What about Natasha?" Steve rejoined them with Thor and Jane trailing behind.

"I was saying she should carry the scepter when we go fight these guys."

Steve appeared dismayed for a flash of a moment, then shook off the emotion and turned to Thor. He explained their needs as it was told to him, with interruptions by both Banner and Stark to correct him when he made too grievous an error. By the time he was finished, Thor appeared pensive and brooding until Jane touched his arm.

"There is one path open to us which may contain our solution. It would require a journey of all of you, to step among the Æsir of Asgard." The thunder god brightened as the plan formulated in his mind. "It would serve as convenience as well, to bear Loki back to my father sooner for continued justice."

Clint snorted and Tony spoke up.

"Justice? Seems like rehabilitation isn't part of your system; Loki's as bats as ever."

"And he did try to take over our planet." Bruce said this with no cruelty; it was a fact and nothing to wound with. Still, Thor appeared troubled, and responded in kind.

"I have done much the same." Thor's declaration caught all of them off guard except Jane, who knew the tale. A stunned hush greeted his words. He met them head-on and awaited their judgment as he explained.

"If Loki is condemned forever due to his crimes, then I must suffer no fewer leniencies for my own betrayal of the king's command. It was my brother who attacked your world, but it was by my actions that he started down the path to his current madness. The responsibility is mine alone in this regard."

Tony opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. "Wait." Open, close. "Wait. You're the reason for all this?"

"Agents of Jötunheimr penetrated the inner barricade of our fortress. I sought revenge upon them, and by my actions incited war between the realms." Thor looked from one Avenger to another, to ensure they listened. "This was how Loki discovered…" The god paused as though debating his next words. Though he'd revealed much of this to Jane, he'd yet to convey to the Avengers or SHIELD particular revelations.

He would keep the tale short, since it would reveal a particular weakness of his brother's that he was not keen to divulge.

"I was banished from Asgard to Midgard for my actions. Loki was without me when he discovered his true origins as a Jötunn himself, in such a manner as to unhinge his mind from the braces."

"Wait – Loki's _not_ your brother?" Clint was surprised and looked around at the others, baffled to find himself the only one who seemed shocked by this revelation.

"We were raised as kin, but Loki was adopted as a castoff from Jötunheimr." The archer's puzzlement died away to wariness. Adopted? There were orphans even in Asgard, the golden realm?

Tony shook his head. "Is it a god thing? Get angry, kill lots of people, start a war of the worlds?"

At this Thor looked to Natasha, whose cool demeanor emphasized his next carefully chosen phrasing.

"Perhaps in this way humans are far superior to the Æsir. Our emotions run deep and long, and once incited cannot be easily quelled. We must learn temperance." A pause. "And restraint."

They all mulled over the implications, some more warily than others. Jane squeezed Thor's hand, who smiled in gratitude at her show of silent support. Natasha, Nick and Clint were carefully filing the information away; Nick made a mental note to add Thor's confession to the god's file, to remember that even this ally might become an enemy if pushed too far.

"Enough." Steve shook himself from his thoughts and gestured to the machine Stark and Banner constructed. "How will we all get there? That thing can open portals, but it doesn't transport itself."

"Oh, ye of little -" Tony took stock of Steve's expression - "no faith. Unlimited power, Cap. We made adjustments with the queen bee's input. Now it can move anything we want, just like-"

"The Bifrost?" Thor was incredulous. "You have mimicked the Bifrost's function?"

Here Jane took her turn. "According to Loki, the Bifrost's energy was channeled through a large dome that Heimdall activated with his sword. That sword was what closed the circuit." At their blank expressions, she added, "like switching on a light with a switch."

"Yeah, so we took that and pint-sized it." Tony pulled up the diagram of the machine and pointed to an opening in the side, just under what they could now see was a basic dome structure. "We needed something that could conduct the Tesseract's energy without exploding everywhere, so we designed it to use that scepter of his. Since Nat's going to have it, it's no problem."

"I am?" The spy raised her eyebrows.

"You are."

Steve nodded, then looked to Nick. "Anything else we need before we go?" He wasn't the type to wait around once he knew the plan.

Nick had his arms crossed. He sighed and looked at Thor. "Do you know if there's any way comms will work, once you're through that portal?"

"They won't." Banner replied for the thunder god. The SHIELD agents exchanged a series of looks; Natasha walked to the table where the scepter lay and hefted it.

"One hour," Steve said. "Say your goodbyes now."

* * *

"As long as you come back, you can go wherever you need to Tony."

Iron Man, clad in jeans and an AC/DC t-shirt, sat next to Pepper on his - their - lounger. They were both holding a glass of wine. Tony had insisted that this be a proper sendoff, which of course involved alcohol, and Pepper insisted that the alcohol not be anything harder than wine. He didn't reach to touch her, and Pepper stayed close enough to touch without doing so. Sometimes Tony just needed to know she was alive and there for him, and it seemed like this was one of those times.

"You won't be able to contact me. At all. We'll be so far gone that if you-"

"I'll be fine." Pepper raised the SHIELD communicator Nick had given her at Tony's request. "I've got my panic button, just in case. Besides, it sounds like I'm not really the target here."

Tony looked toward the windows, fiddling with his fingers, and Pepper nudged him to get a response.

"I'm not sure. They took a random chick - some random no one Loki couldn't care less about. Why? Loki was smart enough to make it personal when he wanted a reaction. Whoever this is, they didn't want a reaction at all."

"But they're getting one." Pepper looked at Tony's suit. "A big one."

"M-yeah. Point one for human trickiness."

Pepper jolted and looked at the suit again. "Tony, can JARVIS -"

"I have been downloaded directly into the suit's functionality, Miss Potts, and will accompany Mr. Stark on this journey."

Pepper looked at Tony, he glanced at her, then set his wine glass down and reached for her hand. Just her hand. She offered it to him, and he turned her palm facing upward before wrapping his fingers across hers.

"Don't be stubborn, Miss Potts. I need to leave knowing I'm coming back to that face."

Pepper smiled and leaned forward to kiss his forehead. "I'll be careful, Tony. I want to hear what Asgard looks like after all."

* * *

It was perhaps ironic that out of all of them, Tony was the only one with proper farewells to make. The rest were leaving with the same people they cared most for - including Thor, who had lost what Tony assumed was an epic battle with the diminutive lady standing at his side. In fact, that battle was still raging when the two entered the room, Jane speaking in accelerated words as she insisted upon her case.

" -not staying behind again. You keep leaving! This time I'm _going_. I'm bringing -"

"Jane, I cannot allow you to -"

"You'll need my help with the machine. If it breaks -"

"There are two others as clever as you traveling with us. We will manage -"

"_No!_"

The thunder god, covered in armor and wielding Mjolnir which could call down lighting in a moment's notice to smite his foes, looked positively cornered by the tiny woman squaring off to him.

"Jane," he tried again, "there is danger -"

"Miss Foster is accompanying you as an emissary on behalf of SHIELD." Nick's brisk declaration put a stop to the discussion. "We have given her technological data to share with your people, in the hopes that knowledge can be shared with _us_ as well."

"Director Fury -" Nick once again cut off the god.

"I'm sending her with my elite response team, a member of whom will safeguard her at all times. Understood?" While Thor appeared ready to continue arguing his cause, the rest of the Avengers agreed in varying degrees of insubordination, until Tony finally just shrugged and muttered "hope she never learns _that_ trick."

The Avengers gathered for the last time in the room where the Tesseract glowed in its cage, two large crates also within the blue glow's radius. Nick observed from a distance - he would not be part of this mission, and had to display the very faith in this team that he insisted others have. It was an uncomfortable position for him. Asking a spy to trust was the greatest oxymoron there could be.

Loki, again gagged, stood in between the thunder god and Dr. Banner. Though there were many warriors within the room, they remembered clearly that only Banner, in his other form, had managed to make the younger god stay down once attacked. Jane stood at Thor's other side with a carry-on bag full of basic needs for a good week. She had discussed what she'd need to bring with Thor (who remained under protest) and settled on the items it sounded like might be in short supply on Asgard. Once there, she'd settle more personal needs with Sif, Thor's lady friend.

"We ready?" Bruce eyed all of them, then nodded to Natasha. She took the scepter from its casing and hefted it two-handed in the direction of the machine.

"Right in the base there, Nat." Tony hit a button which blended into the machine's design and it flared to life. The Tesseract glowed and sparked. Natasha leveled the spear at the opening and drove it inside. A great flash of light, the sensation of being warped and twisted - and the Avengers were gone.


	7. The Realm Eternal

_Finally getting to the meat of the story. For anyone who's stuck with me so far, I hope the story becomes more enjoyable from here on out. Please let me know if you see any typos/grammar issues, they drive me as crazy as they drive you. Also, if you're curious about where any of the lyrics are from, feel free the PM me!_

* * *

_Could I not take it in vain? Oh,_  
_could I not fake it again?_  
_Can't I not take it in pain? Oh,_  
_can't I not fake it again?_  
_I've sent my heart away,_  
_like heroes in the rain_

The visions were growing longer and more persistent. She might enter one and leave it later to find that days had passed in between. When she returned to herself she gasped against the metal gag at the pain eclipsing so much of her body. She was covered in burns along her arms and down her torso, and cuts littered her legs where shrapnel from the blast connected. But they did not care for her health any longer; they did not intend for her to live when they were through, and let her wounds fester in the cold prison.

She pushed herself up when she woke as well, to relieve the tension on her wrists. When she'd come to in this prison after shattering the pedestal, the monster was back. It had gripped her shoulders when it saw she was awake and pushed down, down, down until the mechanism triggered and the manacles did their duty.

She had no refuge. Her body was a patchwork of agony, the visions unrelenting in their ferocity. Most often the voice sent her grotesqueries and horrors no human had witnessed. Other times, the worse times, it sent her delusions of Earth, beautiful Earth, under assaults of the worst kind. In one the creatures who populated this place overran the world and snuffed out every human life for her folly to protect them. In another an asteroid the size of a continent slammed into the side of the planet and swathed the globe in fiery rages, obliterating all life. She screamed when he showed her the entire planet dying, more than she screamed for the people; for one killed more than just man, but the promise of mankind in the future and beyond.

He told her it was real and that her planet, even now, was a smoldering wreck. He showed her the images to convince her; and when she awoke from the nightmare she wept at the thought that it might, it _might_ be real, and if it were true how badly she'd failed her home, what a poor miserable excuse of a savior.

* * *

They materialized on the Bifrost toward the center of the shattered roadway, with Tony so close to the edge that the weight of his armor nearly knocked him off. Clint grabbed a metal arm to hold him straight until Iron Man found his footing. He stood for a moment, letting his head clear of that initial panic, and glared at Loki.

"You did that on _purpose_."

The younger god smiled behind his gag. The other Avengers were busy looking around their surroundings with wide eyes while Jane scribbled notes furiously in her notebook, documenting her first travel-by-portal experience with exhilarated efficiency. Thor only looked weary. Already guards were approaching on horseback, the hooves clattering against the Bifrost as they rode. The thunder god stepped forward to meet them while Natasha and Clint stepped to either side of the Bifrost and gazed out at the golden hued realm of Asgard.

"Geez," Clint said. That seemed to do it for most of them, until Tony pointed at the fluted castle fortress in the distance.

"How much you wanna bet it's a giant organ?"

"Tony," Steve warned as the guards arrived. The first dismounted and moved to clasp Thor's arm in greeting; not guards at all, but the Warriors Three along with the Lady Sif. Thor initiated the greetings all around, and the warriors spent a few moments giving each other the appropriate levels of respect. That the Avengers were called to this realm to assist in matters of Asgard earned them respect among the Æsir. That these same few were those who defeated both Loki's schemes and his armada earned still more. Thor had divulged the battle tales over the great feasts, and in truth his friends were curious about these newest allies of Asgard.

"Thor," Sif said with widened eyes, "is this the one you claim laid you low?" She was staring at Dr. Banner - Thor had assured them that the man who appeared meekest was in truth the most powerful of the human Avengers. Bruce squirmed under her curious gape.

"It is," Thor boomed, proud to set his allies on display. "And this, the clever metalsmith; the deadly widow assassin, and her compatriot, the hawk-eyed archer; and the noblest, a champion and leader of our merry brood." Some of the Avengers appeared uncomfortable with their respective titles, but Tony clanked a hand against his chest in a mock warrior's salute. The Warriors Three and Sif all followed suit, and the shared gesture eased their tensions.

''And the fair maiden?'' Fandral asked. Jane was kneeling on the Bifrost and running her hand against the surface, fascinated by the shifting colors. She looked up to notice them all watching her and flushed bright red, quickly stumbling back to her feet. Thor drew her to his side and beamed. ''My own lady fair, Jane Foster.''

Jane stuttered a shy "Nice to meet you." The Warriors Three bowed and Sif ducked her head in a show of respect. Natasha inspected the garb of Thor's Æsir friends and found herself suspicious. They were all soldiers of some type or another, and with Loki's scepter in her hand she couldn't begrudge them their weapons - but still, there was an element of ultimatum to them. They had come for more than a greeting, and she wanted to know why. She looked at Steve and raised her eyebrows. The Captain nodded.

"You've got us here, Thor. What next?" Steve stood with his arms at his sides, a classic, confident posture, and though he spoke to Thor he addressed Thor's friends. Sif looked to the Warriors Three, then Thor, and finally spoke to Steve directly.

"We are to escort the prisoner to the queen, by her petition." Thor tensed, which drew her gaze. Loki, standing behind them all, looked thoughtful.

"You mean to seize my brother?"

"Only to bring to the queen, Thor. Your mother -"

Thunder rumbled in the distance. Thor looked to Steve and nodded, the slightest concession. Steve tilted his head back at a slight angle.

"You can take him." He added the next for Thor's benefit." "We'll check on him later." Sif appeared stricken and hesitated, finally looking straight at Loki for the first time since before his fall from Asgard. In truth, the last time she laid eyes on him, he'd sat upon Asgard's throne in both the All-Father and Thor's place. They had not left on good terms then, and she had betrayed him as king with her actions soon after that moment.

And would repeat those actions forever more, if needed.

"Come," said Hogun. Volstagg was already behind the prisoner, to escort him away. Loki gave Thor one penetrating glare before moving as ordered, and was led onto a steed and away from the group.

"It's like all the sunshine's gone," Tony said. Steve ignored him and turned to Thor, who watched his brother's departure. "Where's a good place to plan?"

Thor shook himself from his brooding with mighty effort, helped by Jane's gentle touch on his arm. "Come, my friends. I will show you to the great hall."

And the Avengers followed Thor, as one unit, while Loki was taken to hear the queen's will.

* * *

Thor led them to the great hall for the space it offered, though they left the machine and cartons behind on the Bifrost to be guarded by Heimdall. The humans set up shop with little delay, and soon the team were all pouring over the data they remembered of the Chitauri.

"They didn't wear masks for breathing I could see. I guess oxygen's the best for respiration no matter where you are in the universe." Dr. Banner was in the middle of a discussion with Tony about the potential hazards of traveling to the other side of the universe without having any idea what they'd find. They'd gotten bare clips of information from Loki, yet when pressed further the trickster closed down and would not respond despite the Tesseract's enchantment.

Steve was gearing up for battle, and his intensity started spilling out to infect the rest of them. Until he looked at Stark and said, loud and plain, "What did Nick give you to use on them?"

"What?" Tony was starry-eyed innocence.

"What do you have, Tony? I know there's more to this."

Stark rolled his eyes. "Fury didn't _give_ me anything. The Chitauri left weapons everywhere, I had some leftovers. Threw together some stock for this expedition. JARVIS?" A hologram blazed from his chest, flickering in the warm Asgardian air. "See? My own stuff. I've got copyrights and everything."

The arsenal on display was impressive. One of them, the largest looking of the lot, was labeled JERICHO. Sensing that Steve was most drawn to the Biblical reference, Stark grinned. "Wait 'til they see _that_ one."

"What do you plan to do with it?"

"Relax, Cap - just in case. We won't be needing any of them if we're good enough."

Steve decided to let the discussion go and turned to Thor, teeth grinding. Natasha set the end of the scepter on the floor and raised her chin. "Where do we get the coordinates we need?"

"We will present ourselves to Heimdall. His assistance will prove invaluable in this endeavor."

"The big guy guarding the Tesseract?"

"Aye, friend Stark."

Jane interjected with a raised hand. "Um, Thor. I need to meet with, um...your parents? I need to meet them. The king and queen. I have things." She stopped blathering before she made a fool of herself and raised her satchel, blushing. Thor smiled fondly.

"Of course, dear Jane. My friends, grant us permission to leave. We will return presently." The thunder god led Jane from the hall and the remaining Avengers continued their discussion of possible Chitauri world issues..

* * *

Jane couldn't know what to expect. Thor was practically a caricature in some ways, so Norse that he might as well have fallen right out of a book of legends. Now she was off to meet the king and queen - and not just any king and queen, but Odin and Frigga, straight from the same legend. And Thor's parents. As far as meeting parents went, it was nerve-wracking.

Thor repeatedly assured her that she would be loved, adored, they would find her charming, and many other platitudes that meant nothing coming from a biased mouth. Instead she braced herself, straightened her back, touched up her hair and tried to look as serious as possible. These people were royalty after all; it wouldn't do to bumble her way through the introductions.

It was worse than she expected. Thor was quite a sight in his outfit but she was pretty sure he didn't actually glow. Odin and Frigga, standing before their thrones, appeared to shimmer and enlarge in the space surrounding them. Of course, thrones were designed to make you look amazing, and the room was built so that the thrones were the unmistakable centerpiece.

Knowing it was probably a trick of the light wasn't doing her breathing any good. Thor bowed to the pair and she wondered if she should do the same. "All-Father, my queen, I present Lady Jane Foster." Jane tensed under their scrutiny. Odin looked calm, almost tired, but Frigga looked piercing. Jane realized too late that she wasn't Jane Foster, Earth Ambassador; she was Jane Foster, Human Who Holds My Son's Heart, and she was being judged for worthiness.

She began pulling bundles of papers out of her satchel and took the opportunity to present the knowledge Nick Fury sent with her. "We thought we might be able to share information, Earth to Asgard and back." She froze when she saw that Frigga was descending the steps, having heard nothing the scientist said. Looking at her - no, _through_ her, as though she could see Jane's soul.

"My son tells us you are clever and brave." The queen's eyes danced with mirth; she knew she would make the woman blush, to call her out so keenly in front of the king and Thor himself. Jane flushed bright and stumbled over her words a moment, a trait which Thor found endearing. He drew closer to her as she rambled to explain herself and pulled her to his side to calm her.

"Mother," the thunder god pronounced, "you embarrass her!" The queen softened to see her son's attachment and Jane felt less like a wriggling bug on a pin.

"Show up what you have brought, Jane Foster, and we will discuss what parleys we will share with your Earth."

* * *

Thor left Jane in the care of his parents, knowing there was no safer spot for her in all of Asgard, and rejoined the Avengers. Now that the woman he loved was protected, he felt at ease discussing the welfare of a stranger.

Steve Rogers immediately addressed him when he entered. "Thor, we're prepared except for the coordinates. We'll rest here for a night, if that's alright, and tomorrow we'll be ready."

The thunder god nodded and looked from Tony to Bruce, who both looked troubled. Neither were the type of man to leave a task unfinished, and he guessed their discomfort with a smile. "You would like to have the coordinates now, to be certain we have them?" Bruce nodded and Tony crossed his arms. "Very well. Let us meet Heimdall to discuss what is needed for your machine."

The ever-watchful Heimdall stood close the Bifrost's shattered edge and it took almost half-an-hour to reach him. Thor stood back a respectful distance; the remaining Avengers stood in a defensive semicircle with Steve and Natasha at the fore, who stood on either side of Thor.

"Prince," the guardian began, "you propose that I will benefit your endeavor. What is it you seek?"

"Do you see the woman Lynn Creed still?"

"I do." The non-Æsir exchanged startled looks, and Thor said nothing more. He expected them to come to the necessary conclusion in mere moments. As predicted, Tony stuttered first. "You can _see_ her?"

"There is little that can be concealed from my eyes."

"I-uh. Oh." Despite the guardian's blank stare, Tony could swear he saw amusement in those golden eyes.

"I do not allot that which I see without due cause."

"Yeah well, keep your prying eyes to yourself."

"Tony." Steve wasn't interested in fighting Heimdall over Tony's insecurities. "Alright, you can see her. Can you tell us where she is?"

"Yes."

"With coordinates?"

"Yes."

Bruce whistled. "You understand how coordinates work?"

"It is a different method of measurement of the width and breadth of the branches of Yggdrasil." A moment's hesitation, and then an admittance. "However, I require your instruction to translate the branches for your sciences."

Tony laughed. "Nice to know even the gods have limits." They left the scientists to it, and both men were near-giddy with the excitement of comparing notes with a legendary universal gatekeeper. Dr. Banner rolled his eyes when Tony hissed in his most demonic voice, _I am the keymasterrrrr_, and Heimdall made no indication that he understood the reference. Tony looked disappointed and began suggesting various movies the guardian should watch. Steve abandoned them for a moment to step in beside Natasha, who in turn had taken her place at Clint's side, close to the edge of the Bifrost and looking out over Asgard.

"It's beautiful," the Captain admitted. Now that they had time to spare without a villain to babysit or attack, Steve took a long moment to appreciate the view. Natasha nodded and Clint did nothing.

The moment passed, and Steve resolved himself to their cause again. "We need a plan. It was easier when they attacked us; Clint, what do you remember?"

"They went down easy. Compared to Loki and Thor, they were almost human. Loki took bullets to the face and they bounced off; not these guys." Clint was standing close to the Bifrost's edge, looking out over the realm of Asgard. The further the details, the better he made them out. "SHIELD's got enough of their bodies to test for a decade. They're heavier and faster, but not that much more durable."

"That widens our options." He looked at Natasha. "What else?"

"We should split up. Clint and I can find the girl - you and the boys can distract them. Stark alone could keep them occupied for hours."

"It could take that long. We have no idea what we're walking into."

"Yes," Natasha said, and her hand clenched around the scepter she had yet to put down. "It could."

It was hard to tell if this was a show of temper, fear, concern or simply an adjustment of her weight. Steve didn't ask.

"Alright. You two, search and rescue. We can ask...Heimdall -" he stuttered over the obscure name - "...to tell you where to go, since he can see her." The Captain felt better for having some semblance of a plan, and found waiting easier as a result. Instead he turned and appreciated the scene for what it was. Thor stood close by to explain Heimdall's less common terms as much as able, cape flowing in the Asgardian breeze; Tony was a myriad of red and gold alloy save for his head; Heimdall towered over them all in shining gold. And Bruce, humble Bruce, stood in glasses, a normal shirt and over-sized pants.

They worked the problem and debated the coordinates until all four men were satisfied that they'd come to the correct conclusion. When Tony began punching figures into the Tesseract's containment vessel, the other Avengers gathered closer.

"We're ready, Cap. We've got coordinates, we've got maps - viola!"

"Maps?"

"Yeah, ol' gold eyes got us some basic layouts so we're not shooting in the dark. So. What's the plan?"

Five sets of eyes - six, with the gatekeeper still present - turned to the Captain. He pointed at Natasha and Clint. "Heimdall, can you show them exactly where Miss Creed is? They're search and rescue; the rest of us are a distraction. We'll draw them away so Clint and Nat can find her."

"I will."

''I have allies present in Asgard who would offer their swords if asked.'' Thor waited to hear the Captain's verdict in this regard. Steve thought for a while, weighing the benefits of having extra hands against the possibility of failure. He shook his head.

''Tell them to gear up and stay here. This is rescue only and we don't know how well this will go; if the Chitauri get to the portal, we need a second front.'' He turned back to the spies. "Clint, Nat, when you've got her get back to the Tesseract, fast. Once you're there, fire that scepter up. It's a flare and we'll know that means we're ready. Any questions?" Silence.

"Then let's rest. Tomorrow we roll."

* * *

_Here I stand,_  
_Sad and free._  
_I can't cry,_  
_And I can't see_  
_What I've done._  
_Oh God what have I done?_

It was quiet in her cave today. The voice was gone but she knew it lurked, waiting every moment for the sounds she couldn't fight. She ached everywhere and any movement beyond the rise and fall of her chest brought great pain. She had to move though, to keep her wrists from their strain, and as she pushed her legs straight again she groaned against the metal covering her mouth.

Deep laughter rumbled, and she did not realize that her newly straightened legs already bent from exhaustion. She could not brace herself longer than a moment; the world was blinking away.

A rumble in the distance, loud and powerful enough to reach even to her deep cave. She flinched; _his_ temper was unmistakable, and when it was provoked he had but one method of calming his savage mind.

She hoped, though. Her burns were infected by now, and the raised flesh leaked thick white fluid when adjusted. She knew she was feverish, for she hadn't felt cold in days despite the chill in the air. When she looked at her arm she noticed swollen red tracks trailing down, ever downward. If the infection kept traveling it might reach her lungs, or her heart, or both, and then...and then...

She couldn't bring herself to think it, not even a moment. This was what the voice wanted, what he wanted her to succumb to. He wanted to see how much humanity could take before thoughts of self-sacrifice finally departed; he craved their weaknesses. Anything she revealed doomed people she would never know, and she refused to show him how humanity, when pushed to the brink with no further options, wanted life only to cease.

Too late she realized the error. Her thoughts were never hidden, not from the voice, and by thinking of what she didn't want him to know she revealed it. The laughter started again now, deeper, more cunning and full of victory. This, finally, was information he could use to overpower the mortals - merely by pushing them to the brink, closing all avenues of escape from their suffering, and in doing so sealing the fates of the weaker mortals, to then focus his rages on those that stood still in mourning for their fallen brethren -

The rumble faded. She let out a sob; she couldn't help it. If even one person was overcome because of her slipped thought, she would feel their death forever. She might be dead by then; would the deaths she was responsible for follow her into the black?

More noises, loud noises. Agitations and tremors. She squeezed her eyes shut and blocked out the sounds, her failure, and everything else.

* * *

The night passed restlessly for all of them and Steve realized that waiting was a terrible idea. He paced the spacious room where the Avengers were all sitting up awake, in various phases of agitation. Banner and Tony sat in a corner together puzzling over an Asgardian game similar to chess; Natasha and Clint murmured with the Warriors Three and shared battle tales. Thor was in his room with Jane, and Steve suspected the two weren't doing anything remotely restful.

"Captain Rogers, you should sit." The voice was female and stern, and he turned to see Thor's friend Sif regarding him. He tilted his head in question and she shook her own. "It makes me restless to watch you."

"Ah, er, sorry ma'am." He sat as requested in a chair near her and leaned forward, knee bobbing and fingers twining. He needed to _move_ and Sif laughed to see it.

"Come," she said, and beckoned him away from the group. He looked over his team and met Clint's eyes before following. At least one of them knew who to ask if he disappeared.

Sif led them further from the room and outside of the palace walls, speaking as she walked. "You remind me of Thor prior to a battle. He could hardly contain his energies and fidgeted endlessly until the battle began."

"Sorry," Steve murmured, but Sif only laughed.

"There is no need for apologies. I have seen this battle anxiousness many times, and often helped Thor channel his drive into exercise."

Steve wasn't sure he should engage in exercise before whatever was bound to happen tomorrow but couldn't think of a polite way to refuse. The walk alone was helping him feel less uptight. Maybe Lady Sif had a point.

They entered the training grounds and Sif handed him a thick wooden staff. He hefted the weapon and raised his eyebrows when she drew her own from the armaments.

"Ah, ma'am, ah -"

"Thor says that you are not just their leader, but stronger than most humans. Will you spar with me?"

Steve knew he was being unreasonable. Sif was not only a warrior, she was Æsir. She could handle anything he threw at her. And still, his innate chivalry couldn't let him throw the first blow.

He was about to comment on this when her staff swung for his head. He blocked and swerved the pole so that her strike was driven into the training grounds. She flicked her staff up and he spun to the side to avoid taking a hit to the belly.

The fight began.

She was stronger than him and just as agile but not as quick, and he used this to his advantage. Their staffs clattered and cracked against each other, and every missed or dodged blow led each of them to hold back a little less. These staffs were made for Æsir training, not human, and could take considerable abuse. Sensing that he didn't need to hold back any longer, Steve shucked his efforts not to break anything and let his strength fuel his moves. Sif danced and played, enticing him further into the game and enjoying this match with someone who Thor respected. Though she felt that he might not be as mighty a warrior as claimed. Already he was breathing hard and seemed to struggle to keep up with her moves. She slammed the flat of her staff across his stomach and the mortal fell.

He groaned and started to get up, and she held the end of her staff to his throat. "Do you yield?"

"Never." He grabbed the end poking at him and shoved it to the side while his legs tangled through hers and pulled her knees to the ground. She collapsed without any load-bearing joints to support her.

"A tricky gamble," she cried, though she laughed as she said it. "Thor was right to say that humans would rather die than yield to another."

It was the wrong thing to say. Steve stood to set one end of the staff into the ground and looked away, panting. Sif sat up and tilted her head.

"Something troubles you deeply." Another similarity between this human and Thor. They both wore their emotions plainly on their faces and struggled to conceal or deceive. "I meant no insult -"

"No," the Captain said, and shook his head. "You're right. We'll do anything, _anything_, so that we don't have to yield."

To Sif, this was a positive point. To fight toward victory and die with honor - these tenets were held above all others upon Asgard. Why would this trouble the human so?

"And you do not care for this trait of your people?" Steve sighed and took the staff in both hands. Though he said nothing, she could feel his response in the way he held himself apart, the way his jaw clenched with unspoken words.

"Has Thor told you of his banishment?" Steve flickered his look to her and nodded. "And the reason why?" Another nod. Sif stood and moved to place her staff back among the weapons. The Captain followed her. "He did not regret his actions then, though he does now. He thought to defend all of Asgard with his siege on Jötunheimr." She looked at him. "Did he also tell you that we, his friends, went with him there?"

This got more of a reaction. Steve's eyes widened. "All of you?"

"Even Loki, who tried to talk us all away from the idea, and later saved our lives by alerting Odin to our actions." It burned her to admit that Loki had taken even one good step among so many disastrous paths, but the truth often burned. "We stood and fought at Thor's side that day, every one of us betraying our king's command for a little blood lust."

Steve shook his head. "No, he never mentioned that part."

"We were all fools to follow him." Sif crossed her arms and took her turn to look away, off into the distance of the Asgardian night. "It is easier to see the weight of an action when enough time has passed. For at that moment, in the cusp of battle, even the most dishonorable decision may seem correct."

Steve didn't know what to say. He couldn't explain the root of his troubles without explaining World War II and nuclear weapons technology, one of which he would rather not discuss tonight and the other he was ill-equipped to truly explain. How could he explain what it was like, to see an enemy so destroyed that even their shadows were burned?

"When we think we might lose, we use our biggest guns." She looked confused at the term, and he modified. "Weapons. We use the strongest one we have, and we use it fast. We don't wait or discuss the consequences or even hesitate. Humans, when we think we're on the brink of Armageddon? We go all out."

They started walking now, and he continued talking, finding her easier to talk to since she, like he, was a relic of ages gone past. "We don't care if you're innocent or evil. It's all collateral, all acceptable losses. Everything is done by _numbers_ and no one sees the people anymore."

"Then you resent your mission here? To save one woman from your enemies?"

"There's an American life in danger," he replied bitterly. "What do the Æsir do when one of yours is taken in battle?"

Sif felt herself tense and realized she might understand his concerns after all. "It depends on who the prisoner might be. For Thor, as the crown prince, there would be war between the realms. We might negotiate if they are valuable enough. If it were a solitary soldier, from the common folk..." No. Not even the Æsir would negotiate for one life, if so many others were balanced against it.

"Would you kill them all?"

Sif looked shocked at the suggestion, and shook her head. "No. The warriors, yes, if they do not first surrender, but never _all_."

Steve smiled grimly and looked out at the stars above them. He gave up on thoughts of sleep tonight; even if he managed now, he'd only have nightmares.

"Humans," he said, "are not so kind to our enemies. If we can, if we think it'll save us for another year - we'll kill everything."

* * *

Jane felt like a contented cat, stretching as she awoke in a large, cozy bed surrounded by large, cozy arms. She almost purred but she didn't know how, and besides it might wake up Thor and she wanted him to have some rest before the rescue today. Instead of waking him, she stood up and walked to the bureau to play with her new toys.

The Æsir blended magic with technology seamlessly, and she understood now why Thor thought they were one and the same. Yet they weren't. She had spoken at length with Frigga about scientific discoveries on Earth, and even Odin had asked several questions to clarify or otherwise further explain a particular advancement. They seemed stunned when she explained the modern conveniences of the standard first world kitchen, and cars fascinated the queen, who saw great opportunity in a horseless chariot. She was less impressed with the fuel used to power these machines, until Jane pointed out that with a bit of their magic they might manage to avoid the need for mining and coal.

In return they presented her with small trinkets of unimaginable potential. The small charm Frigga offered repelled water from the wearer on a rainy day. They offered her samples of the alloys created on Asgard, thick and durable enough to protect their hosts, who were much more durable than the average human. They gave her books full of Asgardian knowledge, and though the books were written in a language she couldn't read, they presented her with another charm that gifted her the ability to understand the words on the page.

They wanted more history than she'd been prepared for. Jane knew scientific history and discoveries, which carried her a long way, all the way through the Enlightenment and into more modern times. She was able to explain significant advancements in her own culture and the Western world, but her ancient history was rusty and she struggled to tell them precisely how the Viking culture died out, or the modern day politics of Scandinavia. That Odin spoke of these people both fondly and with great respect made her uneasy. They were, after all, Vikings, who were not known as a peaceful culture.

She decided not to mention that. She didn't want to know if the king and queen of Asgard agreed with the old ways more than the new.

By the time she'd left them, her head was spinning with new information as well as the wonder of sharing a long conversation with two powerful alien beings. Not just first contact, but ambassador for her people! It was all very exciting, and she couldn't wait to return to Earth to report her discoveries to SHIELD.

She might keep the rain charm for herself, though. That could come in handy.

She was reading a passage in the Asgardian history text about the three roots of Yggdrasil and how they wove through the universe when a pair of big, strong hands wrapped around her from behind. She leaned back into the embrace and sighed happily. This was bliss.

"Enjoying?" The voice slithered and rasped, and she squeaked and dropped the book to spin around. When she turned, no one was there. Thor still slept in the bed, undisturbed by her sudden movement. She shivered and hugged herself as she looked around the room.

_Just your imagination_, she thought. But she crawled back into bed with Thor anyway, and his arm instinctively wrapped around her even in his slumber. She shivered until she felt safe again and fell into a light doze.

* * *

The Avengers were gathered on the Bifrost close to Heimdall's point, where the guardian looked out over the universe. They were subdued; between all of them there might be six solid hours of sleep, save Thor who looked well-rested and ready for the task. He clapped Tony on his metal shoulder, since the man's armor could take such a blow, and beamed at his comrades.

"Today, we set this to rights!"

"M-yeah. We ready?" Tony poked at the machine until Jane shooed him away and began activating the necessary functions for it to - hopefully - work with Heimdall's coordinates. "Everything looks good. The Tesseract won't burn out, it's literally endless power, so you just gotta make sure to keep this thing in our hands, not theirs. Nat? Right in the base, there."

Natasha stepped forward with the scepter, and Jane stepped back, outside of the theoretical range of the machine. She jammed the scepter into the slot at the base of the machine and the air shifted and warped around them. That familiar sensation of pulling, pulling, pulling - and then the sensation stopped.

Jane looked at Heimdall, who watched with the same passive expression as always. "Did they make it?"

"Yes."

She sighed in relief. One less worry on her mind. "Can you keep me updated on how they're doing?"

"If you wish it."

She looked at the spot where Thor had stood moments before and her heart clenched in fear. What would happen to her if he - if _they_ - failed? She'd lose Thor and Earth in one go - for without the machine, she couldn't get back home.

"I wish."

* * *

"Homey." Tony stared up at the black mountain which loomed over them. Not just a mountain but a massive hive. Hundreds, maybe thousands of holes littered the rocks, and every so often a skittering movement betrayed the presence of life.

The sky was barren black and gray; the universe itself seemed to open above them and flow forward into endless stars. A platform hovered furthest away at the top of the highest peak; Tony could see it due to his zoom lens, and Hawkeye saw it as well.

"What's up there?" Tony zoomed closer when Clint asked. Steps leading up higher, and nothing on top.

"I don't know," Iron Man said. "Looks like a throne, but I guess the boss is out." Steve looked with them without seeing the distant specks. He shook himself and focused on the mission; they didn't have much time.

"This is the midpoint of the mountain. There should be a cave there, just ahead - Nat, Clint, you know what to do. Stark, you're with me. Knock'em down and I'll do mop up here. Thor, bring the lightning. Give them a big show; we need to draw them out and keep them out. And Hulk: smash everything."

The Avengers scattered. Iron Man and Thor leapt into the air and began an immediate assault on the mountainside; Tony littered the craggy surface with small explosions and raining rock. Thor called down a mighty blast of lightning which danced upon the mountain surface and hummed deep below. There was enough ore in this mountain to channel more; Tony called that out and Thor obliged, sending more and more electricity deep into the hidden recesses.

The Chitauri poured forth with shrieks and yells. The Hulk met them first and plowed into a cave with his fists, slamming any of them foolish enough to stay in his way against the walls hard enough that their skin ruptured apart.

Steve saw the first Chitauri in range before it saw him and flung his shield directly into the creature's throat, decapitating it when the shield bounced against the mountain wall to reflect back. Another came head on and the Captain used its momentum to land a punch straight into the center of its face. The second sprawled back with a Chitauri cry of agony, and still more came. Steve looked around the cliff face and saw his chance; he ran forward and hurdled from peak to peak, drawing the Chitauri upward and spinning kicks and punches into wayward limbs when they tried to imitate his parkour.

Natasha and Clint sprinted through the mountain on a direct path. Clint took point with his explosive arrows, which cleared more Chitauri in a single hallway . Natasha watched their back and waited for the ambush. It came forty yards down in a tight corner; they rounded and dozens of Chitauri surrounded them in an instant, hooting their war cries. Natasha pointed the scepter and found something unexpected: there was no trigger mechanism. She'd taken a Chitauri weapon in the New York battle and used it immediately; she'd assumed, incorrectly, that the scepter worked the same way. She adjusted her grip from rifle to spear and pressed into the tight corner to take the advantage. A thunderous explosion echoed in the small corridor. Clint was clearing the way ahead.

The closest Chitauri surged forward and Natasha dropped to her knees to bury the spear into what she thought might be his gut. She hefted the spear in the direction of the Chitauri's speed and he flew over her head, dropping his weapon as he went. She dropped the scepter for the blaster and returned fire, ducking behind the wall every third shot. When the hallway was cleared she retrieved the scepter and followed Clint forward. Now she was armed with both a close- and long-range weapon, and she utilized the diversity to great advantage.

They found the cave were Heimdall had guided them. The duo paused outside the dark room within to look at each other and steel themselves for whatever they might see. And then they entered.

Natasha had many reasons for suggesting herself and Clint for the rescue. They were the stealthiest of the Avengers, and that was the reason accepted by Steve. When they entered that cave, the secondary and more important reason came into sharp focus. Of all of the Avengers, only she and Clint were equipped to handle the results of vicious torture.

That the girl would be in a state was assured; it was the specifics of her condition that couldn't be known. Thor might have been able to set aside his instinctive response to the sight after lighting half the mountain ablaze with his rage; Tony would not, and Steve...

"Clint," the spy said, "is she alive?"

"Yes." The archer gripped the chains which clenched around her wrists to try and find a latch; the girl cringed and shook her head.

"Shhh, Lynn. Shhh. We're taking you out of here." Natasha tried to make her voice soothing and smooth. The girl quieted without opening her eyes.

"Nat, there's no latch to these."

The Black Widow raised the Chitauri blaster and fired straight up into the ceiling where the right chain linked into the mountain. The chain came out in a spray of rock and the girl slumped forward into Clint's arms. Natasha repeated the move, both chains came free, and the spies ran from the cave without further comment. They left the gag on for now; it would keep any of her cries muffled, which would conceal them now that they were more vulnerable with their rescue.

They burst from the mountain with Natasha in the lead, firing ahead to keep their path clear. Stark's blasts combined with Thor's powerful lighting created a hail of stone which showered constantly along the side of the mountain. Clint wrapped a thick arm around the girl's upper body to keep her head protected. Natasha aimed her Chitauri blaster into the air and fired. The blast was lost among hundreds more, and she couldn't make the scepter fire.

"I need a flare!"

Hawkeye shuffled, stretched and handed over his bundle for a moment to fire one arrow into the burning sky. It burst into a bright red cascade with a high-pitched whistle. Taking the girl back, they ran for the Tesseract's hidden location and hoped the rest of the team got the message.

Tony came in second-to-last as the Hulk roared closer, slamming into the ground and ripping the first crate open. "Deploy, JARVIS! Now!" The crate transformed in a moment from a rectangular box to a large platform which raised in the middle to guide the giant missiles. JARVIS aimed for the densest cluster of cave openings, where the Chitauri still emerged, and the missile blasted from the platform in a haze of smoke and fire. It sailed through the air as Tony hit the button to transport them away, and the shrieks of the Chitauri were silenced when the air rippled around them.

The first Jerico detonated as the second was fired. Eruptions followed for a mile of terrain across the Chitauri mountainside, killing dozens and injuring hundreds more. The shock-wave which radiated outward knocked those closest to the ground, soon followed by a second and then third round of powerful blasts. The bombardment covered the Avengers' escape, and by the time the dust settled their enemies were gone.

* * *

''She is taken.''

_And the tether in place?_

''As _requested_.''

The rumbling laughter was tinged with anger.

_We will be led, then. Prepare the Chitauri forces. We will study, and observe, and rip their hearts from their chests._


	8. Tempest

_A quick note: as I mentioned, this is purely movie and comic-verse. For fans of Mother Loki, sorry, that means no Mother Loki in this story. I mention this because there IS mention of some of his "children" in this chapter. I hope the compromise is acceptable!_

* * *

_Now that I've said this, which I'll probably regret__  
__Now that I've thrown this in your face, do I have a case?__  
__You left me out nowhere, I'm out of time__  
__You got all those other things, I've just got this one thing__  
__Thanks a lot, way to go, bro_

Frigga's sentence proved more condensed than the All-Father's. She discussed her concerns at length with her husband, and together they determined that Loki, if left to the same sentence, would resist the lessons forced upon Thor during his time on Midgard. No, their young liesmith was in need of a more subtle, devious lesson, and in this regard Frigga excelled where her husband did not.

She instructed her wayward son that the woman, if rescued, would become his latest study, her mental state his direct responsibility, and would hear no refusals. She demanded his attention be absolute and impeccable by her own exacting standards, and vowed to monitor the woman's progress while under the god of mischief's care. Loki, bound by his chains and still unable to work the magic he needed to escape this realm, could only agree.

* * *

Thor protested the modified sentence initially, his lack of faith in his brother's state of mind evident from the volume of his complaints. He pointed out Loki's own continued insistence upon the innate inferiority of humanity, and that the woman would not appreciate waking from one manipulation to another. Frigga nodded in response, as though this were the very reason she considered the sentence fair.

"I feel there is more than one heart to be mended through this ordeal."

"She should at least be full healed, Mother! It would take little effort to close the wounds littering her person."

"No, Thor."

His mother's apparent heartlessness caught the thunder god unprepared, and he spared a moment's thought that perhaps Loki's hardheartedness emerged honestly from their parents. Seeing her son's misery, Frigga placed her hand against her elder son's cheek to calm him and smiled.

"It is sometimes crueler to heal, my son. Have you seen that human ailments take great time to mend? Their thoughts run away with them; they struggle to grasp what has unfolded without the benefit of seeing their wounds vanish."

Thor shifted his weight and tried to think of a way to disagree without sounding disrespectful. Frigga removed her hand to allow him a moment of space between them. He settled on the simplest phrase he could.

"I do not understand."

"You would not. We are unaccustomed to wounds needing time to heal, but a wound will heal at the rate the mind is prepared for. If we were to take away the reasons for her discontent, we would struggle to understand her continued hardships - and so would she."

Thor prepared another volley and was silenced by her hands resting on his shoulders. She leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

"A mind cannot be forced to accept the body's ministrations. If you will not believe your queen, would you find the ability to trust her?"

"I shall attempt." Hesitancy again, and uncertainty in the fairness of the young woman's treatment. Frigga stepped back and clasped her hands together. Ever calm, she met the thunder god's concern with assurance.

"Walk with me, Thor." They moved together for a while, her arm lightly clasped around his as she allowed him to play escort. In time she spoke again, and her words were carefully placed - as though she'd thought long and hard of this message, and how to deliver it to him.

"Do you remember, when he was younger, that Loki would often take in less fortunate creatures? So often beings he found and nursed, and then set himself upon to raise. The poor serpent Jörmungandr, found consuming its own tail - Fenrir, the great wolf, powerful though wild, as wolves will be - training skittish Sleipnir for war -"

"I remember."

"Has he not done as much for your Midgard?" Thor stopped and his mother halted as well. They looked at each other, soft eyes into hard sapphire, and he shook his head. "No, mother - he has done nothing but bring peril -"

"Though his methods were harsh, can you say he erred in his appraisal of humanity?"

Thor said nothing in response, his jaw clenched hard enough to ache on either side. Frigga nodded and continued. "You see, now. Loki has always, in his darker moments, found a task to focus on - a trial to endure, a puzzle to solve. In his despair he turned his eyes upon Midgard, a world he knew you loved, and saw it wanting."

_And so you take the world I love as recompense for your imagined slights?_ And Loki's look, then - not insulted but confused, baffled, not understanding the _gift_ he was trying to give -

"No." Thor could not accept this. "He spoke of freedom as a burden, a shackle which bound them. He meant to _rule_ them, not save them."

"He saw one and the other as equals."

"They are not!" Thor tossed her hand away in his fury and strode from one side of the hallway to the other, pacing as a rabid lion. "He sees himself better, superior, and such a ruler could never bring peace."

"It is not sound reason, Thor. Your brother broke from his wounds, both mental and physical, and now what seems clear to him is but shadows and figments to us."

Thor could not restrain the hope which again flickered in his heart, that his brother might once more become whole if given the proper guidance. "You think to resuscitate the part of him which deigns to help these poor creatures?"

"It is his rare kindness that I appeal to in this action. I do not believe he will make the path easy, for us or himself, but I am sure that in order draw your brother from the void he is lost to, this is the way."

They were close to the mortal's room now, and Frigga lowered her volume to respect the resident within.

"You are the eldest, Thor, and have only come into yourself these past few years. And so Loki, too, must grow."

_I remember a shadow._

"He resents me, Mother. He feels I overshadowed him all our lives."

"You were always the more outgoing son. It is easy to overlook one brilliant shell for the expanse of the sea." Frigga paused at the woman's door and looked to her eldest son. "Do not concern yourself over this woman's health, my son. Eir has tended to her personally and mended the worst damage, that which might have become permanent if allowed to fester. Your brother shall see to it that she recovers in mind, with my guidance."

They came to her now in their travels, lying in the bed they prepared for her recovery. The healers worked in a room further away from the great hall, with its constant bustle and life. The woman was beyond reason, though mercifully quiet. Her hair was tied back in a tight elastic band. They had dressed her in a simple shift to keep the weight of clothes from aggravating her injuries. A large bruise spotted with smaller cuts and welts spanned across the left side of her face, and the welts continued through the right side to the nape of her neck. The thunder god knew from her rescue that terrible burns enclosed her arms and wrapped around her upper torso; a myriad of lacerations encircled both of her legs as well. But all of these were covered in thick bandages and hidden from him. The bandages gave way to solid casts of pulp around her wrists, with a bracing segment passed across the joint of her thumb. When they'd found her, both wrists were snapped cleanly in two.

Her lungs rattled harshly when she breathed, though without the willingness to speak she could not reveal the cause.

She stared ahead sometimes and shuttered her eyes most often. When any of the Asgardians or Avengers approached her she neither startled nor reacted in any way. If they tried to draw speech from her she would sit mute and unresponsive.

Seeing her now, Thor was once again overcome with his doubts. He would need a better argument, and without his brother's counsel he was lost for a new angle to approach the queen. He thought of each of the Avengers in turn to give him that advice and knew that their arguments would carry the sting of retribution toward his brother. He could not fault the Midgardians their thirst for vengeance. Steve Rogers, Stark and the doctor had all come to him separately to express misgivings about what they perceived to be an easy sentence. He'd mollified them as best he could, but in truth he himself often wondered at the relative leniency his father displayed. Thor had incited war between two realms and was banished to a third for his actions. Loki had continued that war on and taken further steps toward attempted genocide, then reemerged later to attempt conquest of Midgard - a realm he knew his brother loved and would be watching.

He had to have known...

That realization stuck in the thunder god's craw. Why had Loki chosen Midgard? If he intended to conquer a world, why not another of the Nine where Thor would not regularly direct Heimdall's sights? There was one who might know the answer - the least likely to give it. Thor could not wait on this thought. He strode purposefully through the castle halls and those who saw him coming stepped aside. There was not one among the royal household who could not recognize the look of Thor on the scent of his brother.

* * *

"Why did you choose Midgard?"

Loki was lying on his platform with an arm crossed lazily across his eyes. It was an oddly casual position for any prisoner, and it irked Thor that his brother seemed unconcerned with Asgard, his sentence, the woman - anything at all. The thunder god's temper flared and he quivered in his rage. How easy it was for Loki to anger him still, even without one word in his direction!

"Answer, brother."

A quiet sigh escaped Loki's mouth. "Will you not let me rest until you hear it?"

"I will not leave until you speak."

"I have spoken, then. Now go."

"Speak more, of your choice."

Time passed. The trickster did not move save for the undulation of his jaw and throat as he spoke.

"The women there seemed to your liking," Loki said. "I thought I might see for myself. And how is the wee dame? A prize brought straight from -"

Thor had never been one to hesitate to manhandle his younger brother. He stepped into the circle of Loki's prison enchantments and hauled the younger to his feet by his vests, Thor's face a mask of thunderous fury. He shook his younger brother and nearly bared his teeth, but for the startled and fearful look on Loki's face. Thor quieted himself at the sight of his brother almost afraid of him. There were many looks he could withstand from the mischievous god; fear had never been one he relished.

He shoved Loki back and the younger god was forced to sit on his pedestal. He rubbed his throat and glared at Thor, but at least that moment's crackling anxiety was gone.

"Tell me truth, Loki. Why did you choose Midgard?" The trickster stayed mute, and Thor pressed onward. "You knew of all the Nine, and some are easier to sway than others." More pause for thought, and Thor spoke slowly now, as though the thoughts were manifesting only moments before he voiced them. "If you wanted a throne, you have one already to your name. You weakened Jötunheimr with the Bifrost, and there you have legitimate royal claim as the sole heir of Laufey."

Finally a reaction sprang forth. Loki's face twisted in repulsion at such an assertion, and in his loathing he spat a reply which began to weave the thoughts spooling through Thor's head into a tapestry.

"Yes," Loki hissed, "I'm sure they would submit to the one who assassinated their king and attempted genocide against their people."

Thor met the trickster's eyes straight on. He wanted to make sure that Loki both heard and understood the following words, that he would know this was no lie.

"They would not know either were your doing, save if you revealed this yourself."

Loki narrowed his eyes and snarled. "A trick, Thor? You should know better than to spin your webs around me. I can see through them as easily as I see through you."

"It is no trick, Loki." Thor sounded tired and felt even more so. It was challenging to bicker with his brother when Loki was of right mind; now he felt as though he slogged through a boggy mire each sentence. "The All-Father hosted their envoy not a month after your fall, and told them..."

Loki waited a moment, then pressed. "Told them what?"

"The truth. Laufey their king was slain as he attempted to slay Odin himself, and the one who slayed him fell into an abyss after. The Jötuns' entry into the realm of Asgard caused a great rift. The Bifrost was left open by a mad Jötun to tear their world asunder after their attack."

Loki began to pace now, his steps halted by the chains binding him to the pedestal. His path was short and stunted, yet still the trickster paced. Thor watched him and waited, knowing the younger god was debating with himself. He had no visible reaction to Thor's account beyond this flustered pacing. The thunder god could only hope his brother was affected by the news.

"An interesting move by the All-Father," Loki concluded. "I see why our realms are no longer at war. He shifted all blame to the actions of the Jötun."

"Yes, brother. _All_ the Jötun."

Loki shot him an angry grimace at that, but said nothing more. It was Thor's turn to press. "You turned your sights to Midgard - why?"

Loki shrugged casually though tension marred his features. "The Tesseract was on Midgard."

The Tesseract, always the Tesseract. Its unlimited energy glowed in their vaults even now, concealed away from public view.

"The Tesseract creates a doorway to any realm, does it not?" Loki said nothing; the answer was obvious. "Then after Midgard, you would have invaded other realms?"

"No." The addition of _you fool_ hovered in the air between them, but to his credit, Loki left the words unsaid. Thor's mood darkened.

"I suspected that you would hand the Tesseract to another. You distracted me when I asked the last time - who is it, Loki? Who controls you?"

Loki slashed his hand down, dismissing the topic. "The Tesseract can only open a door it has been shown. It cannot create, merely reveal." Thor, despite knowing a change in topic was coming, found himself drawn in to this new line.

"Then how did they send you to Midgard?"

The trickster paused here, and brooded. Thor could sense the lies weaving out of thin air and stepped closer. "I need the truth, brother." Still Loki hesitated. Finally:

"The doorway must have an anchor who has traveled the limbs of Yggdrasil before. It will follow that same pathway to any realm revealed."

The implications that this anchor must be a person, and therefore in this case Loki, struck Thor as inconsistent. Loki had not traveled to Midgard using the limbs of Yggdrasil rather than the Bifrost. It was Thor, not Loki, who'd been cast into the mortal realm, and even then the path was linearly guided through that same Bifrost.

Except...

Thor remembered now. Loki had indeed traveled those branches without the assistance of the Bifrost, to come and meet his brother in the flesh as he tore his heart from his chest. Now the thunder god knew the lies he'd been told that day, and Loki watched him warily. He knew the memories stirred would incite Thor's animosity. Memories of being told his father died and his mother forbade he return home for any reason. The crushing defeat of rejection by all he loved, hours after his rejection at the handle of Mjolnir.

Thor gripped that handle now and allowed the thunder within to pass. Seconds, then minutes, and finally: "And once you had Midgard conquered, you would give up the Tesseract, and all its power, to who? Not the Chitauri." Thor began his own pacing, finding it easier to think with his body in movement. "Without their forces you could not hope to retain the Earth. So they would stay, and the Tesseract would go to..." He stopped and looked at Loki, who looked back at him with considerable surprise.

"Truly," he drawled, "you have mastered the art of deduction." Thor knew he was being teased, and though the tone was unfriendly he was glad to know his brother still had mischief beneath the madness.

"Your master," the thunder god finished. "Who is it?"

"I have no master." And there was so much venom, so much _hate_ in the phrasing that Thor nearly believed him. Without the past several days between them, he would have been fooled by the assertion.

"Loki, why must you lie?"

The trickster laughed. "Why must you call down thunder? We are both of us products of our legends, are we not?"

"Yes," the thunder god replied, his heart heavy with sorrow. "I suppose we are."

* * *

Jane knew that her beau had spoken with Loki, because his face was twisted into what she affectionately deemed his I-want-to-beat-my-little-brother-into-a-bloody-pulp face. It dampened her mood to see his so sour, and she turned her efforts from the day's discussion with Frigga, Odin and Heimdall to trying to cheer him up.

"Look what Tony brought," she declared, and produced a swath of records and a crank record player. Thor looked baffled and she laughed, then set a vinyl on the player and cranked the player. She released, placed the needle, and music began to play. This tune was classical and subdued, but Tony had a whole armada of modern, classical and everything in between converted for this trip.

"Tony said that Nick would just send the boring stuff to share with Asgard, so he wanted to 'get things hopping.' I'm impressed that everything isn't Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath. He sent a great collection!"

"This is music of your people?"

Jane fingered the rest of the collection. She hadn't presented it to Thor's parents yet; she wanted to take a night to enjoy the feeling of listening to music with a friend, or in this case a lover, and sharing a passion together that had nothing to do with science, the Avengers or anything else. She hadn't had a night like this since college.

"Lots of it, too. He focused mostly on American, some Russian composers - Shostakovich, who he said was metal before metal was cool - you'd like these!"

In truth, she had no idea what Thor liked. She didn't know his taste in music, or his favorite meal, or if he read books. She could guess his favorite color; she knew he was passionate about familial bonds. He was good to his mother, which she considered high marks. He was also good to his brother; she hadn't decided how that scored.

"Jane, a query." She looked at him while pulling out an Aretha Franklin album. He looked...unsure. Great. The only time he looked uncertain had to do with the one topic she didn't want him thinking about. Best to get it out of the way so they could focus on what really mattered here: time together.

"What'd your brother do now?" Thor winced and shook his head; she sighed. "I know he's locked up, but you have a specific...look...when it's about him."

Thor sighed and told her of Frigga's decision, then continued on to the conversation with Loki afterward. One revealed the concerns about the other more clearly, and even more he had a nagging suspicion that there was another angle he might approach. Jane listened, often scrunching her nose or shaking her head. When he finished, she immediately lit upon the issue nagging at him, in clearer words than his own mind could voice.

"So, your mom's making Lynn his _pet_?"

Thor jolted and assurance washed through him like a calming wave. Now that he could place his issue, he could contain it and approach it with cautious contemplation. "Aye. To Loki, humans are...lesser. She means to appeal to his compassion for lesser beings."

"That seems pretty terrible for Lynn."

"Yes. I am unsure how to approach this issue. My mother is insistent, and it is wise to yield to the queen's will."

Jane took his hand and wrapped his arms around her, leaning against him. "Stay near her, then. He can't do much if you're there. Or Bruce. I don't think he's afraid of anyone else."

Thor laughed. "My brother fears no one, I think."

"Yeah, well, he still acts nicer when you or Bruce are there. Just stay close, don't let him near her without you. If he's a jerk, one of you can handle it." She looked up at him. "That way you're respecting the queen _and_ keeping her safe."

His arms relaxed around her. "Thank you, Jane. Now show me this contraption."

They spent the rest of the evening sharing music, and stories, and time. And when she fell asleep wrapped in his arms, she felt she knew him better as a man, rather than as a god, and she liked what she knew.

* * *

Thor fretted over the woman, as much as the rest of the Avengers if not in greater quantity. Yet the queen's command carried weight which overrode their concerns. She would hear nothing else outside of her youngest tending to this poor creature, though she accepted that the humans insisted on seeing to the woman's medical ministrations. After a private discussion between Bruce and Thor, Dr. Banner took the lead in this regard and set himself to changing her bandages once a day. Still, the girl said nothing.

Bruce was able to alleviate some of his comrade's worries over the queen's decision. Despite her insistence on a sparing healing, the methods of Asgard shone brightly in the face of comparable Earth treatments. Bruce almost laughed the first time he changed the girl's bandages, to see how the flesh underneath was already scabbing and lacking its previous swelling. When he touched her skin it was cool; the salves on Asgard were imbued with soothing tonics. Her legs displayed similar tendencies, the lacerations sealed shut with scarring after only a day.

The queen's command made greater sense with these revelations. Though she spoke of allowing the girl to heal in her own time, Asgardian medicine still increased the speed.

He reported the find to Thor, who still struggled the most with this delay.

"It's amazing, really. We couldn't do any better at home; she'd need skin grafts for those arms and legs. Here she'll heal without them, and I don't know if there will even be scars."

Thor watched the girl, who lay with her eyes closed again and gave no sign that she knew they were present, but a foot away from the edge of her bed. "You are certain that care is adequate?"

Bruce smiled his disarming smile and nodded. "Yes. She'll get better faster than you think."

* * *

The first time the god of lies, accompanied by Frigga and two guards, approached the girl on the bed where she sat she showed no recognition, instead choosing to stare into the abyss only she could see opening before her. Her mouth hung slightly parted; she said nothing when he offered her a glass of cool water. She also did not reach to take it.

The trickster held little patience for the follies of man, and rasped his annoyance immediately. His chains chinked in his tension.

"Take it now, wretch, or die of your thirst."

The girl did nothing. Her eyelids lowered and rose in a slow blink, just enough to wet the orbs and keep them from drying out. Other than this reflexive move, and the rise and fall of her chest, she was still.

Loki hissed his anger and reached to grab her mouth on either side in one hand. Frigga's quiet noise stilled his furious grip, and instead he gently pinched his fingers to force her lips open. He poured the water into the small opening and watched it trickle down the sides of her mouth until the small cavern filled and the remaining bubbled outward. Her throat stayed closed; the water was unswallowed.

"Listen closely." The trickster leaned in, fingers still clenched on either side of her face. "I will not play nursemaid to the unwilling. I will drown you to spare myself this mockery. _Drink_."

It was for naught; the water pooled again to pour from her lips. Loki doubted she heard anything around her. Though humans lacked much by way of worthiness, even the trickster admitted their relative strength in matters of survival. That the woman did not attempt to spare herself the fate of drowning in a small cup of water illustrated how little she understood. He left the half-filled goblet by her bedside and turned to depart.

This was when Thor strode in that first day and demanded that the trickster back away, and also declared that he or Dr. Banner would be present for any incidences thereafter.

Two more days Loki tried and failed in his task, and each visit was accompanied by one more Avenger to monitor his attempts. After the third day he requested an audience with the queen, which was granted on the fourth. She met him in his prison to hear his arguments against his servitude.

"Lady Queen." Loki bowed at the waist to the exact height appropriate to show reverence. "My endeavors are futile in the face of the woman's trauma. Four days have I tried and failed to persuade her to sip a glass of water. I fear she will die if left in such a state."

Frigga watched Loki as he spoke and folded her hands before her waist. That her prodigal son expressed such fears lit the fires of hope within her, and her lifted mood softened her words when she replied.

"You have not failed a day, Loki. Though perhaps your success is accidental. Four days you have brought a goblet full of water, spelled with enchantments to ease the worrisome rattle within her lungs, and four days we have removed the goblet empty of its contents from her bedside."

Loki stared in shock. "You say she's imbibed of them, every one?"

"I do."

The trickster began to pace. "And stand assured that it is she, and no other, who drinks?"

Frigga smiled then, meeting her younger son's troubled gaze.

"I am assured. Have you not taken note of the lessened disquiet of her lungs?"

"Indeed I have, Lady Queen, though only now appreciate the message therein."

He had assumed this related to the salves which covered her torso.

"However," he continued, "she will not thrive on bespelled water alone. Your counsel is both requested and appreciated in this matter."

Frigga nodded her agreement to help. "I will observe her closely tonight, my son. You will have your answer on the morrow."

* * *

In the darkness and solitude of the fourth night, the queen of Asgard visited their ward. The woman seemed asleep; her stillness betrayed no sign of wakefulness. Yet as the queen approached she could sense a rising tension in the air. The girl's eyes remained sealed shut, her only sign of agitation the slight flickering of her exposed fingers.

The queen smiled a calm, gentle smile and set a bowl of clean, stringent water on the bed next to the woman. She drew a wet cloth from the water, wrung it out, and began dabbing the soft film against the woman's blistered face.

A quiet sigh echoed through the room.

The queen continued spotting at the ragged flesh where blisters marred the woman's young face. The solution both brought down the feverish heat and cleansed the skin of disease-causing agents. The fingers stilled as the queen began to hum a soft song. The tension in the air receded, and it seemed the woman slept.

The queen pulled the tight band from the girl's hair, removing the pressure of the taught coils from the scalp. She wet her fingers and brushed them through the tangled mess, again and again until the curls did not catch. Now released from the strain of bound hair, the woman breathed more easily and the furrow in her brow lessened. A pounding headache she had long since ignored drifted away and left the girl relieved.

Her awareness was still questionable, yet a voice cracked out behind parched lips. A quiet, unassuming voice which drew another serene smile from the queen.

"Thank you."

The queen knew that the girl could not know who helped her. She would likely not remember this quiet moment of the night when an unseen hand tended to her as none other might. Still, the girl thanked the hands for their kindness in the first spoken words any of them witnessed.

"Rest now, child. You are safe."

The girl did not argue; her fingers and face went slack for the first time in many days. Comforted by the gentle voice and touch, she remained still through the night.


	9. Refuge

_I am just a worthless liar._  
_I am just an imbecile._  
_I will only complicate you._  
_Trust in me and fall as well._  
_I will find a center in you._  
_I will chew it up and leave,_  
_I will work to elevate you_  
_Just enough to bring you down._

* * *

There were certain actions no god must ever take, regardless of circumstances. He recited them to himself from memory, a codex he'd poured over a child which illustrated in graphic detail the responsibilities of a higher race.

To never forget one's embodiment, lest one lose this embodiment to another more worthy. In expressing that embodiment, one practiced self-worship along with self-fulfilling prophecy. Where Thor called down lightning, thunder followed and the mortals stood in awe. Where Loki sowed his liar's tales, chaos and confusion followed. Perhaps not as flashy as the thunder god's terrors, but more poetic and devious in the execution.

To show fear - unthinkable. All else must tremble before the gods; no god shall tremble before another, for that creature, however lowly before, then became a god itself.

To allow oneself to be conquered by any force save that which the god personified - the worst of these vices. And to care, truly care, about a mortal? _Only my fool of a false brother_.

Loki understood why the All-Father had not taken his powers as he had Thor's when the thunder god was banished for his crimes against Asgard. Thor's innate abilities lay not within the might of Mjolnir but the thickheaded stubbornness of his stupidity. It was easy to separate the two and send them flinging through the Bifrost into Midgard without direction. Loki's abilities were woven into the very fabric of his being. To remove them would kill the younger god as surely as an executioner's blade, and despite everything, Loki thought the old man might still feel something for the tiny changeling he once stole from its home.

The trickster thought it appropriate that upon finding him, Odin All-Father's first action was to lay a disguise upon the creature he held, to conceal away the truth. Loki's destiny was set in one swift moment, his entire life a forlorn love song to the Liesmith's trade. And he reveled in the knowledge that there was no memory untainted; every memory, regardless of how fond or terrible, was a lie due to his appearance. He was the wolf among the sheep, planted there by the herder and expected to remain tame once he discovered his true nature.

_My name is Loki Laufeyson_, he told himself. _And I am not to be tamed._

Even his presumed whore of a mother recognized the beast she birthed, and abandoned him. He thought she might have killed him had she known he would be found and raised by the enemy. He never wondered why she did not, for the truth was Loki never wanted to die. His theft established two realities: first, that everything he would ever do was a lie, through and through - and second, that he was the consummate survivor. He knew he must have wailed when Odin found him, and perhaps pouted to show he was pathetic and fragile. And the All-Father became the first victim of the Liesmith's craft.

Loki could not picture himself so small and helpless, even when there was no doubt that at the time, he was exactly that. Now he was trapped in the All-Father's cellar, a dark and deadly secret concealed away from public view. He gave few thoughts to escape; instead, he spent his time planning, as was his wont. He would not be chained here forever - and once he was released, he needed to know his next move, and then the move of his enemies so that he might anticipate his next twenty steps ahead. The trickster abided no uncertainties in his scheming.

None.

Loki absently rubbed his forehead where a cut used to be. Perhaps no uncertainties, but surprises were another matter. He decided he'd had enough of those for several lifetimes. Now it was time for certainty, precision, and above all else, victory. He'd enslaved the very hearts of his minions during his attempt on Midgard, remembering how quickly he was betrayed by his own subjects as king of Asgard. This worked well but was short-sighted; he would need something more far-reaching in the future, more encompassing. To conquer a species such as humans required utter subjugation, the knowledge that resistance equaled annihilation. Humans fought for nothing so hard as they fought for their own survival. They had believed he came to destroy them, and so fought with their heaviest weapons.

In the future, he needed to be clearer about his intentions.

Tension rippled across his back and he raised his eyebrows and turned his head to the side, prone upon his stone tablet. He didn't open his eyes but he imagined the human's face, and his imagination made him smile.

"You look angry, little spider."

Natasha crossed her arms and tilted her chin up. "You're not looking at me."

"Ah, but I can see you all the same." Loki tilted his head back into position and stretched one long arm to settle underneath. The smile never left his face. "What troubles you, dear heart? Have you not found enough blood to satisfy your cravings?"

Natasha wasn't the type to dawdle or let an interrogation flounder. "The staff. You knew it wouldn't work for me, didn't you?"

The trickster smiled wider and shook his head. "Such a waste, to have so much intelligence in such a pretty head."

"Why didn't you tell us?" She stepped closer, until the circular rise in the floor stopped just in front of her feet. She didn't want to be within range of his deadly hands. "Did you want revenge?"

He scoffed, and she could sense that he might've rolled his eyes had they been open. "Revenge is petty. Have you forgotten what I am?"

Of course. The god of mischief couldn't be expected to let a good trick go to waste. And yet... "Why did it work when I used it on you?"

The almost light-hearted air between them evaporated. His eyes finally opened and he sat up, casual posture and burning eyes. What color were those eyes? Sometimes green, sometimes blue - she realized they were both, and the color changed to suit his mood. Like the clean Caribbean oceans, clear and responsive to the light they reflected. At this moment they were so light and pale that she imagined a clear reflection of herself in them.

"Curious to repeat the experience?"

She waited and said nothing. He was a talker, she just needed to wait him out. It took less than ten seconds; he couldn't keep his mouth shut when he knew he had an audience.

"It didn't work for you. It never did."

Now she was confused, and she let her face show it. If it never worked in the first place, how?...

"The Tesseract." She felt certain now. The way Clint talked about the thing, it spoke, it was alive and had a will of its own. She hadn't ever controlled the power of the scepter - it served as a channel to something else's desires. Loki scowled and narrowed his eyes, then softened his face into a genial smile.

"Very good, Agent Romanoff. What else?"

She was on a roll, and she spoke her thoughts out loud to watch for confirmation or rejection in his body language. He was an easy read once she knew what to look for. "You used it to channel some of your magic for the blasts. That's how you used it as a weapon." Her voice turned amused. "And magic is something I'm lacking."

By now he'd turned on the slab and dangled his legs over the side, then slid to his feet and sidled closer to her. He was so tall, and his height made him imposing to anyone other than her. She looked up at him with the same stoic expression she always wore.

"Don't stop there," he rasped. "You're so close."

Magic - how did it work? He willed his clothing to change, he willed his illusions into existence, he willed -

His will.

The realization struck her cold, and despite her inner strength she considered taking a step back. He was toeing the same line as her by this point, and his glare was murderous. He could turn feral so quickly; how did the Asgardians ever control him?

She remembered Thor's story of Loki's fall, and his attempt on his own mother realm. She understood how the Asgardians controlled him: they never did.

"Yes." He leaned toward her, unable to physically step into her space. She leaned back from instinct and claimed it was reflex. "Now you see what I am." And his eyes, light and cold and almost dead, continued on: _I made you a promise, little spider. A promise I intend to keep._

A wild dog. A rabid beast that needed to be put down before it infected those closest to it. Did Thor know? He couldn't - his love blinded him to his brother's reality. Natasha was breathing harder and the air whistled in her nose. She took a step back, away from that mad stare, and shook her head. "You're nothing but a monster."

This garnered an unexpected response. He leaned himself back and stepped in the direction of his weight, away from her and back to his pedestal. His hands raised, and he grinned in animal amusement.

"From the bitch's mouth," he replied.

* * *

The Avengers had started a new routine. Every night, they gathered in Thor's quarters - which after all, were large enough to house two or three New York apartments - and abused the crank record player for hours. Clint joined them first, lured by the dulcet tones of Louis Armstrong. Natasha followed him the night after, and together they dragged Steve and Bruce.

Tony, of course, invited himself.

Jane felt guilty for hoarding the player this long, but was almost giddy with excitement when she'd noticed Thor's friends starting to trickle in nightly, one by one, until the room was filled every night with Earth's mightiest heroes. It was cozy and comfortable, and with Thor's help she showed off the latest Asgardian gadget gifted to her by the king and queen. Tony laid a claim on several items and she had to make sure to hide them away after the get-togethers to make sure he didn't make good on his threats. Banner absorbed every piece of information he could and asked her the same questions she found herself asking Frigga or Odin - _the__ Odin, good God! _- and she was happy to repeat their answers for another perspective.

Natasha and Clint went for the weapons, predictably. Tony, less predictably, went for the metal ores and seemed insulted when he realized that quite a few were the same as Earth metals, just tempered in different manners with better forges. When Tony was on the prowl for information he couldn't hack into, he became belligerent. He took advantage of Thor's weapons knowledge and quizzed the thunder god on the various metals until Thor swore to take him to an Æsir blacksmith to stop the endless parade of dizzying inquisition.

The castle servants - _servants, holy crap!_ - brought food to their nightly gatherings, and the Avengers dined on Asgard's finest meals in the peace of the room. Sif joined them once or twice to exclaim over the record player's abilities, and the Warriors Three trickled in as well.

It felt homey, and Jane loved to entertain when it wasn't her space.

Tony declared himself the DJ every night, and depending on how much bickering they wanted to deal with his claims might go unchallenged. Jane was the only one he wouldn't bother arguing with - she became so flustered when she tried to match wits with him that she stuttered terribly, and his guilt at reducing her to a stuttering nervous wreck - combined with Thor's dark look and twice-spun hammer behind her back - prevented further arguments.

Natasha could win as well. Tony quipped "brr" and backed off when she turned on the Cold War Charm.

Tonight was shaping up to be somewhat somber. The music was mostly quiet at Bruce's request, and the Avengers were more subdued as the softer music filled the room. Jane and Thor were huddled together over a map of Asgard, with Thor pointing out various locations he would like to take her to while Jane insisted that she was busy with work. It was a good-natured disagreement and they were both lit up from teasing each other. Apparently Thor's lack of contact during the invasion was long forgiven.

Tony and Clint were both fussing with a longbow while Natasha sat on the edge of her chair and leaned forward, hands clasped in front of her and laughing at their antics. Clint would lift the bow, his arms straining from the weight, and within moments began complaining loudly to Tony to _hurry the hell up with whatever you're doing this damn thing is heavy_. And Tony would point out that _I'm doing science, shut it_. Eventually Clint would lower the bow and grumble until Tony nagged him into repeating the entire ordeal.

"Dammit, Stark," he finally growled, "what is it that you even want?"

"I'm analyzing how the metal bends when you draw. Shut it."

"You don't even have instruments to measure with!"

"I have eyeballs."

And on and on. Natasha occasionally threw in a superfluous comment just to get them going again.

Bruce was trying to focus on a medicinal chart, his concerns far away from Asgardian tools. He pulled his glasses from his face and pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. Steve, who'd been watching Banner's relative discontent the entire evening, took it upon himself to ask.

"What's on your mind, Dr. Banner?"

Bruce hated to break up the good will, but he was in charge of Creed's care and it needed to be said. It had been two full weeks since the rescue, and the woman was still in the healing wing, languishing until - what? He picked up a slab of meat from tonight's food trough and tore off a chunk with his fingers. The Æsir hadn't abandoned the tradition of using their fingers to eat almost anything on the table, and Jane hadn't brought silverware for the visit.

"Guys, we need to talk."

Bruce was taking advantage of the casual gathering and Tony groaned at the sudden formality, poking at Clint's tensed arms while Barton snarled at him. "C'mon, Banner, can't it wait -"

"What're we gonna do with her?"

Several exchanged guilty looks. They'd all thought about this decision in some capacity - Steve more than the others, as was his nature - and the solution was hard to come by. She'd been well taken care of here with little intervention by any of the Avengers, and in truth her silence made it awkward for most of them to visit. Only Thor and Bruce saw her regularly now, and Bruce felt the most responsible for her because he'd claimed that responsibility himself. He looked around the room.

"We could take her home, but..."

"No," Clint said as he put down the longbow. Every one of them looked shocked that he was the one to say it, including himself. He continued when no one objected. "All they'll do is put her in a hospital and pump her with drugs."

He glanced at Bruce, whose tight face revealed the doctor's suspicions as well. "You're right. There's nothing we can do for her on Earth that's better than treatment here. In fact, it's been...better here. She's healing without a lot of medical needs from home."

"Yeah," Clint said, "and she's not stuck in some room alone all day. She goes home, then what? She doesn't have a family to give her to. Nurses, doctors - we'll be called to other stuff and won't have time anymore. Here she gets company and she's not in-"

"A cage," Tony finished. "We get it, Barton."

"It's close enough to home," Steve added. "She wouldn't wake up in a cave or...or an illusion." The Captain remembered his disorientation well when he'd woken up in that sterile room surrounded by a too-perfect impression of his home time. The worst part of the experience wasn't the lie. It was realizing why the lie was necessary.

"We can't just leave her here either." Natasha now. "If she wakes up and there's just strangers, it'll be just as bad."

"What, you knew her before?" Natasha glared at Tony, but the man had a point. The options dwindled. Creed could wake up surrounded by one kind of stranger or another. She looked at Thor. "Thor, your people would protect her, right? If the Chitauri came looking?"

"Aye. We would not let any harm come to her while in our care."

"If you want her feeling safe when she wakes up, I guess immortal space Viking gods are as safe as it gets." Tony pulled the latest record - an Electric Light Orchestra album - from the player and pulled out Helen Reddy's Greatest Hits. Clint groaned and tried to find another album; Tony batted his hands away and shook his head. "Nuh-uh! Pepper loves Helen."

''Pepper's not here!''

''It's a tribute.''

"I love Helen too." Jane's enthusiasm was painfully contagious. "She makes me feel awesome!"

"You know every word to 'I Am Woman,' don't you."

"Don't be jealous, Stark."

"Guys," Steve said, "there's something else." He was watching Thor, who looked concerned and reluctant to speak that concern. Steve nodded at him, and the thunder god straightened himself to speak. Tony set the record in place and left the needle lifted out of respect for the moment - or rather, his own curiosity about what was about to be said.

"If Lynn Creed remains on Asgard, Loki's visits will continue."

The sudden emotional fall prompted am immediate comment from the billionaire: "You are such a downer."

"I do not wish to fell the mood, my friends."

"Are we friends?" Clint again, who was looking ruffled with furrowed brows. "Are we? We're a team, but friends?"

"I sure hope so," Tony said. "I've spent a lot of money on you jerks otherwise."

"How are those visits going," Natasha asked. Ever pragmatic - though she looked more concerned now than she had before. "Is he tame?"

Bruce shrugged. "He's fine. It's all fine. There's guards, there's me or Thor, and she's still...not speaking much."

"Could he be keeping her that way? On purpose?" Clint broke a piece of crisp bread from the loaf in the trough to mask his intensity. It was enough that the question was asked.

"No," Thor replied after several moments of thought. "His magic is restrained still. He could not influence her mind in such a way."

Steve suddenly stood and walked to Thor's door. He pulled the handle and peered into the wide hallway, where several other doors lined the walls. "Thor, are any of these other rooms taken?"

"Many are set aside as quarters for envoys when they arrive."

"Could we move her out here?"

Bruce perked up at this and looked at Thor expectantly. The thunder god seemed stunned, then considering. "Would this not delay her treatment further?"

"Her wounds are pretty much healed." Bruce liked this idea more and more. "If she wakes up, she could see a normal room with a normal bed, not the healer's ward. That would be better, I think. It might draw her out sooner."

"Then it would be better to move her from the healer's care?"

"I'll still be here." Bruce looked at Steve, who nodded agreement. "I think you guys have done enough by now. The bandages can come off soon. Now she just needs...comfort."

Natasha had joined Steve at the door. "How close can we put her?" She looked back at the men and raised her eyebrows. "The music could help. Something familiar, from home. If she hears it, it might help."

She spoke with the weight of experience. Tony and Clint both looked sympathetic.

"I will ask the servants for a quarters in this hallway, as close to my own as possible."

"Then it's settled." Steve closed the door. "Miss Creed stays here and gets moved closer to Thor's room. What about the rest of us? Someone needs to go back."

Tony groaned. "I'm surrounded by killjoys."

"He's right," Bruce agreed. "We can't all stay here. It leaves Earth vulnerable."

The boys all brooded silently, not one of them willing to admit that home was less than appealing when Asgard had better weather. It was bitter winter in New York. Jane, who had taken a back seat throughout their discussion and tried to avoid eavesdropping by studying Thor's map of Asgard and circling locations she wanted to see, piped up.

"Why not set up a rotation?"

"What?" Tony narrowed his eyes at her. "You are way too close to your college days."

She rolled her eyes. "People can come and go at will, right? The Tesseract's not going to lose power - ever. I need to travel back and forth for my research. People can come and go with me."

"Aren't you already overdue?"

Jane nodded. "By a week, at least. Fury might be mad, but he'll get over it when he sees what I've got."

"You're not taking the sputterstones." Tony sounded worried and possessive.

"I'm taking whatever I want!"

"Sure you are. Except the stones."

"You can't have them." A stone that when broken and blown into a person's face, left them confused and turned around for several minutes. Jane shuddered to think of what Tony would do with such a thing.

"A rotation needs a schedule," Steve said. "Let's set one up so that we know where everyone is at all times."

"Way to go, Foster." And Tony dropped the needle so that the crackly opening strains of _I Am Woman_ echoed throughout the room.

* * *

The move went well. Lynn had no possessions to actually transport, and she allowed herself to be led. Even so, Steve insisted she be carried or carted on the short trek, and Thor agreed. The two seemed in competition over who would fret the most over this woman, and Tony took bets with Jane that her beau would win only because he would outlast Steve in the long run. Bruce had a conversation with both men and insisted that Lynn be allowed to walk at least once a day to keep her muscles from atrophying. He wasn't worried about bedsores since Asgard's medicine could stave off infections. Both Steve and Thor reluctantly agreed to the doctor's terms, and Steve, for his part, took her on those walks himself while he was in Asgard.

Feeding her and keeping her hydrated fell to the healers and Loki, respectively. The trickster continued bringing a glass of tonic each day, which he left at her bedside under the steady eye of however many guards decided to attend that day's visit. The woman never made a move or sound in his presence or anyone else's, yet Frigga assured them all that the empty glasses were gathered every evening. It was driving the impatient younger god mad with curiosity. A mystery to save for a later date.

Loki traveled between his stone tablet, the woman's room, and Frigga. One of those allowed him to be himself, pensive and quiet; the other two forced him to react to the presence of others, and he resented the need to act civil in the company of others. Frigga's motherly affections died away in the face of her cool professionalism. She questioned him daily on the woman's status, both physical (_fine_) and mental (_gone_), until the trickster ran out of words and stared at her in confusion for what else she could possibly want from him. Whatever she sought in his countenance was clearly still lacking. Frigga ordered that he accompany the woman on her daily walks.

In private counsel with her husband, she confessed her worry that Loki might be well and truly lost.

One month passed, then two. The Avengers fell into a routine, using the never-ending power of the Tesseract to visit between Earth and Asgard. Tony brought Pepper on his third visit, and the two shared a shockingly romantic picnic in the castle gardens. Or at least, that was how Tony described it when asked. Pepper just said that Asgard's bugs were more persistent than ants back at home.

Jane became more than an emissary. She transferred mountains of data between Asgard and Earth with every trip, and with the blessing of her institution was awarded an exclusive grant to further any and all research she deemed appropriate. She and Tony worked together to bring electricity in all its glory to the Golden Realm, and in turn they were rewarded with native fruits and vegetables hardy enough to withstand even the worst weather conditions - including drought. Tony cackled when he saw the corn that never rotted and declared, "Monsanto is going to shit themselves a lawsuit." Jane had to agree.

Her next trip took both Natasha and Clint back, on Nick's orders. The spies were needed for a mission in the Congo, of all places, and Jane sent them with plenty of sputterstones and wishes of good luck. Clint also brought an arsenal of Asgard's finest arrows, and Natasha several knives that could go three times longer between sharpening as Earth steel. Tony was left behind to try convincing the Asgardians, who loved their spears and swords, the finer merits of guns and blasters.

Sif took well to the Colt 45.

The nightly visits continued, and had grown big enough that Thor's door was left open for hours each night to allow free passage of visitors. The Warriors Three were regular attendees now, delighting Steve and Clint with tales of their numerous adventures, and Sif goaded Thor into teaching the Avengers hnefatafl, which Tony immediately dubbed "Viking Chess." The easier-to-pronounce name stuck, and Natasha and Steve both displayed great propensity for the strategy involved in moving pawns across the board to defend a single king. An impromptu tournament started with a bag of Earth candy Jane brought for this trip as the prize, and when Steve won a decisive victory against Fandral Tony declared himself the winner and stole the impromptu trophy. It took them two days to find his hiding spot.

* * *

It was not befitting a prince of any realm, even Jötunheimr, to trail behind someone so weak and infirm. Loki kept his pace as brisk as allowed, and wondered how much protest he would face if he were to tote the woman around on a bridle, as a dumb beast of burden. He thought she might be trained, in the state she was in, and she would make a fancy pony when visitors came to visit.

His thoughts turned angry at times. In truth, he liked to talk and her unresponsiveness tormented him. The guards never uttered a word, nor did any of the Avengers save Thor, and Loki had no intention of speaking with him. _Let her rot_, he thought to himself as she trudged through the hallways of the castle. _Leave her in the gardens for the worms._

Today was such a day. The guards hung back and gave the healer who led her space to do so. The healer was slow and steady, ignoring Loki's pace for a stride more amiable to the woman's state. Loki paused in his steps and crossed his arms to wait for them. It was an agonizing wait, and by the time the healer stepped close enough to hear him without being screamed at, he thrummed with irritation.

He smoothed his emotions and offered a hand to the healer, who gave him a look of blatant distrust.

"May I have her?"

The healer's mouth dropped open. "I-I don't think -"

"It is by the queen's command that I am here. Hand her over."

His magic was bound by his chains, a point which he made sure to emphasize by moving his arms more than necessary, making the metal rattle. The healer's eyes were drawn down, then back up, and the woman passed over. As expected, both guards and healer hovered closer in case any treachery was afoot. Loki merely linked the woman's arm in his, turned, and started at a leisurely stroll even slower than the pace set by the healer. He could be debonair when it suited him, and at this moment it suited him rather well.

They fell back and he murmured into the woman's ear, keeping his face up and looking about to feign a tour of the grounds. "You are a shackle I never anticipated. A burden I did not foresee. And what of when you wake, little mortal? You will become worse - a blight."

He paused at a vibrant tapestry and pointed to the chartreuse threads woven through the fire giant's form. The threads shimmered in the golden light of Asgard, making the fire giant's flames flicker and waver in lifelike illusion. "Listen well, shackle. Do not awake." He traced the thread's line with his finger, then tugged to pull her forward again. Their walk continued, and the healer and guards behind them exchanged hopeful glances, ignorant of the quelled conversation.

"Do not awake," he repeated, and smiled at a statue as they passed it as though he were commenting on the structure to her. "There is no pain where you are now, is there? That is why you stay locked away." He reached to stroke a hand across the statue's cool stone, then took her hand and stroked it along the same path so that she could feel the same texture. "Cold, unyielding. That is what you will find should you awake, shackle."

He turned to her and smiled, a smile so brilliant and friendly to fool his observers. He was angled so that his eyes were still shielded. Cold and dark, reflecting the statue's shadow looming over them.

"Hold yourself back, far and away. In enough time, you will be forgotten. And wouldn't that be lovely?" His grin widened, became wild. His eyes flashed. "Wouldn't you like to live life as a raindrop? Broken on the ground, vanished, and forgotten?"

She met his eyes. He saw her inside for a flashing instant, saw the way her focus shifted to meet him halfway. Saw her mouth tighten and her jaw clench.

_Yes_, she said without speaking before drifting away once more. _Yes, I would._


	10. The Trial

_Son, she said, have I got a little story for you_  
_What you thought was your daddy was nothin' but a..._

* * *

Some opportunities were not to be wasted lightly. Loki understood human nature better after his many monitored visits and opportunities to observe. His enemies were close at hand, mere floors above him in this very palace, and these humans, unlike the Æsir, had very particular weaknesses he meant to exploit.

The Æsir were taught from infancy of the two pathways open to them, and encouraged toward the hero's path. As a prince, Loki had undergone very particular training intended to groom a heroic warrior for his people to look up to and admire. Regardless of how the lessons failed, they were still absorbed. Loki could never hold himself with anything other than all the poise and grace of a rightful prince of Asgard.

Humans, in comparison, were given options. They were an emotionally complex species and even their great leaders were held in suspicion of what they might do if pushed too far. Humans suffered a delicate balance between their innate cruelty and kindness, always straddling the line of compassionate disinterest and emotional investment. It was easy for them to categorize a large-scale problem, turning it into easy-to-comprehend numbers and dismissing the issue from their collective minds until a news report or other media movement made them care for a few moments of their precious days.

In contrast, once they met and understood an individual, there was no stopping human loyalty, no denying their belief in that person's ability to change should the need arise. Their entire justice system was built around the concept of rehabilitation rather than strict imprisonment, and humans devoured stories of antiheroes on the path to redemption after their dark past finally caught up with their compassion and made them regret past actions.

The trickster was certainly not above emotional manipulation. He fed on the confusion and hurt this could cause. He had enough time to wedge himself into his enemies' minds, fool them into believing he was anything other than a rabid dog to be put down at the earliest opportunity. Perhaps he should not have played his game with the assassin, who would now be twice as suspicious of any of his actions - but it was such fun to watch those pretty eyes widen, those lips part and those nostrils flare. It was the highest entertainment to see in her eyes that she knew, she _knew_ that if he were free of whatever cage she watched him from, he would kill her as easily as he would her namesake, crushed under his boot as a nuisance smudge.

He smiled.

"My wife said to me, when she held you the first time, 'death surrounds him.'"

Loki was pacing before his pedestal, agitated, and turned to face his visitor. The All-Father stood with Gungnir and watched his younger son pace. Odin looked sad and weary, full of mourning. Who did he mourn for?

"She asked of me the same question you asked, so many years later, when you discovered your true origins."

Frigga, mother, the kindest person in his life – to see her face scowling at him, to hear her words cut and sting, _why did you save this?_ Loki scowled and drew back as though stung, the maternal sanctuary crumbling under Odin's truths. Loki would remember this: the truth was often worse than a lie.

"She did not debate when I brought her the changeling child I found exposed. She listened when I explained how I found him, and how I meant to raise him. She accepted my reasons why. A lasting, true peace between Asgard and Jötunheimr, forged in the alliance of one enemy taking in the young of another."

Odin stepped to the line and regarded his younger son. Loki listened quietly, unsure of what he was expected to say in response. Odin continued; this was a history for Loki's ears, not an attempt to draw response.

"She listened, though she knew it a distant hope. How could the abandoned Jötun lead to such aspirations? He'd been exposed by the king himself, and Jötuns are not kind to their deformed. What would Laufey have done, to see his disowned son at the right hand of the All-Father?"

Loki envisioned it now. Himself at Odin's side, a preened pet under the control of Laufey's greatest enemy. Stolen, just as the Casket of Ancient Winters – and docile, raised as a son. No. Laufey would never accept such an alliance. He was more likely to explode into a rage and decimate all who stood in his path, to have his own shame so forced into the open. The malformed babe he cast aside years before, alive and well and now the All-Father's son.

Loki thought he might have simply beat Laufey to the slaughter, by killing him first.

"Then why," he broke, and his throat clenched around the words. That wrenching, breaking pain in his voice – that would never do. He waited a moment to gather himself. How was it that it was Odin, always Odin, who could rend his heart in two with so few words as his weapon?

"Why did you keep me, the useless Jötun runt? Did it amuse you to raise Laufey's castoff?"

Odin turned to look at the sparse walls around them and seemed to ignore the question. "Thor was always more like your mother, though he took my countenance. Sometimes foolish, but always with good intent. He throws himself into conflicts without regard for his safety." The All-Father smiled slightly. "You have never seen your mother fight. You would understand better, I think, if you had."

Now Odin faced him again. The sadness returned and he spoke with gentle certainty. "I think you know, now, the feeling of alone. Truly, unbearably alone. You must have felt it when you hurtled through the void, must have known it, to throw yourself into alliance with the Chitauri's master."

Loki jerked, and Odin nodded. He did not verbally affirm his knowledge; there was no need.

"I am from an older, darker time. A time before lightness, and kindness. A time before hope. I love my wife and son. Would die for them, as you well know." Odin stepped within the circle and Loki drew back, uncertain of his role in the All-Father's mind's play. "Yet never have I felt connection with them so much as I felt that day, on the outskirts of Laufey's doomed temples, as I felt when I held you."

Loki felt as though Odin were unraveling him. His hands grasped behind him and he found his pedestal; he leaned back against it and stared, wide-eyed and wide-mouthed, as Odin beat him with the truth.

"A kinship," the All-Father said, and Loki flinched away when the All-Father's hand rose to press against his cheek. "As deep and pure as a cool pond. I looked down upon your monster's visage and saw myself staring back, as once I must have been upon another."

And then Odin was gone again, back outside the circle. Loki panted and his fingers twitched, trying to weave the mental strands back together.

"I had to show caution with you. If you were where I felt that cord, that link – then you did not reflect my better traits." Odin shook his head and laughed, a quiet chuckle. "It was not my favor I kept from you, Loki." Odin watched him for signs of being pushed too far. They were too numerous to count. "It was my influence."

_This is why you told me your politics_, the trickster thought, and he felt nauseous. _It was the easier truth to bear. This is why you collapsed when I confronted you. I am the monster __**you**__ fear, for I am your reflection._

"It is both my pride, and my curse, to know that despite all my efforts – you still became your father's mirror."

And there was no father he could turn to who would make that statement endurable. The god of lies sucked in a sharp breath, and his eyes glistened brightly with unshed tears. Why would Odin reveal this now? _Why?_

"You wonder why I tell you this now." Loki nodded, unable to speak. He feared he would crumble if he so much as uttered a word. "It is because I know, as your mother does not, that you _cannot_ be changed.

"Your sentence was farce. I had thought you might be influenced when you saw them as humans, rather than pawns or subjects. I thought you might even feel a little for them. But you are a destroyer, as ever your fathers were, and now you have known the flavor of fear inspired by your very nature. I know, too well, the lure of that power." Odin shook his head. "I know too well the cost."

Loki raised one hand to his own throat and squeezed, as though he wanted to choke the life from himself. He could feel words, so many of them, building up within his throat, and not a single one could be released past the misery clouding his vision.

"I think you know why I am here, Loki." Odin's sorrow was great, as he mourned for the son and the monster and the connection he would sacrifice. "I think you know why I have brought Gungnir, and why I have come alone."

"I can change," Loki burst out, and almost clapped his hands over his mouth to silence his beggar's tongue. His desire, his _will_ to survive, kept his hands away. "I will adapt if you give me chance, Father, I will –"

"No, Loki." Odin's eye was hard as slate, the sadness gone under the weight of a necessary action taken to protect the realm, _all_ the realms, and Loki felt that same desire to die welling within him as it had the last time those very words were uttered. The only words in the entire universe, it seemed, that could make the consummate survivor want nothing more than to cease existing.

Odin raised the staff and Loki stared at the point, glowing with Odin's dark power. "The only way to change you would be to unmake you."

"You must give me chance!" Odin paused, and Loki realized his opening: that connection which Odin both craved and feared. "You have evolved, haven't you? Will I not receive the same opportunity?"

"It is customary," Odin said, "for a son to surpass his father's achievements." Gungnir shone in Odin's eye, reflected in Loki's. The younger god's fear was palpable, and Odin did not revel in his victory over his son's pride. He looked upon the grown man and saw only a babe's trusting eyes. Loki could not plead, even when he saw his death waiting for him, glowing in the wings and waiting for its chance. Odin lowered Gungnir slightly, and his heart broke to see his son's fearful eyes following the staff's point.

"You would plead for your life, Loki Odinson?"

That restored the fearful man to a prince of Asgard. His face tightened and he met Odin's eye with new resolve.

"Your brother managed in but three days."

Three _days_. Loki grasped at the straws of himself and found them scattered across a vast field of disarray. It would take three _centuries_ to gather the strands into a cohesive, single rope.

"But," Odin continued, "he was never so stubborn as you." Gungnir's light dimmed; Odin channeled his power back into himself, and nodded. He beat the end of Gungnir against the floor three times: a pronouncement from the King of Asgard, though Loki was the only witness.

"You have earned three weeks reprieve from your sentence, Loki Odinson." Odin's blue eye burned with gloom. He felt no hope in this decision, but his son, his youngest, his reflection, had asked for a chance.

"You will submit yourself to the mortals for judgment."

Here was an unanticipated condition, and Loki bared his teeth and hissed. Odin was stacking the deck against him, as though the All-Father knew this a waste of time for the god of lies.

_You will see,_ Loki thought angrily. _I will show you how tame I can be, even when the bridle chafes my lips._

"At the end of this time, if not one of Thor's mortal friends will speak for you, if not one will attest to your changed nature - your life is forfeit. In the name of my father, and his father before."

Three more bangs of the staff against the floor to end the declaration. The two men stared across at each other.

"Good luck, my son."

Odin turned to leave, and Loki grimaced behind him. The All-Father's heavy steps echoed his departure. Loki imagined Thor's humans, all of them, and thought only the women who had not witnessed his attempt on Earth might be susceptible. Unfortunately, two were doted upon by overprotective beaus. Which left…

Loki reached for his magic, still coursing through him - if restrained - and found the tether. He tugged slightly and felt resistance at the other end. He didn't smile, worried that the All-Father might have Heimdall monitoring his actions for the plot he surely knew the trickster would concoct.

He tugged again, and felt more resistance. He rested against his stone tablet and crossed his arms, impudent and brooding as he ought to be, while his mind wove clever tricks and lies he might use to convince Thor, the Avengers, and anyone else that he was a changed man deserving of life. He tapped into a strand of his magic and drew it outward, away from his hands and toward the tether instead. He latched onto that invisible chain and began slowly, gently threading his magic within. The bindings on his wrists remained still; his magic was only restrained, never bound entirely.

He knew better than to mention his remaining abilities to his captors. They would bind him more surely if they knew he could funnel even this fraction of his power into the nonphysical ether.

He unraveled that strand further and further, and the tether he used as an anchor twitched.

Far away, in a quiet quarters watched over by Bruce Banner, Lynn's left hand twitched.

Loki smiled.

Yes, he thought. It was time to go.


	11. Fallen Kings

_Welcome to the fallout_  
_Welcome to resistance_  
_The tension is here_  
_Tension is here_  
_Between who you are and who you could be_  
_Between how it is and how it should be_

* * *

Tesseract travel was shockingly easy. They deployed the machine with the scepter and transported anywhere they wanted, so long as they had the appropriate coordinates. On Earth there was a SHIELD-designated site which helped the constantly-traveling Avengers avoid two crowds: adoring fans and rabid scientists. It was dumb luck that Thor's girlfriend had enough credentials to pass as a legitimate scientific envoy, but the NIH, CDC, U.S. military and various and sundry universities were unappreciative of being effectively locked out of the Golden Realm. Clint could understand that resentment, even without a scientific brain. But Clint had other worries to occupy his mind.

Clint was troubled, and he didn't appreciate that his troubles centered around a man he'd rather not exist. Tesseract travel was so easy that beaming - as Tony insisted they call the travel method, backed up by the nerd power of Jane and even Banner - had no ill effects on anyone. They deployed, they beamed, and they walked off the platform with smiles on their faces.

Loki hadn't been smiling. At least, not in the casual, that-was-a-breeze way.

In point of fact, the trickster god had looked like absolute _hell_ when he appeared on that platform, gaunt and pallid and with circles the size of saucers under his eyes. Barton remembered every detail of his time under the god's influence, including right after he'd been claimed. As they'd walked away from the collapsing portal, Loki himself nearly collapsed and had to be supported by those who surrounded him.

Barton knew the god was a fan of illusions, but why bother giving off an illusion of weakness when he wanted a strong entrance? He spoke eloquently of the false hope of freedom, and the words gave him strength where the travel had sapped it - but the travel _hadn't_ sapped it at all. It couldn't have, if it all worked the same.

Which brought up his concerns. If Loki looked like hell when he arrived, then he'd looked like hell when he left wherever he came from. It had taken less than 24 hours for the god to clean himself up to shining again - or at least create a glamor to give that impression, Clint wasn't sure - the point was, the man liked his style. He didn't abide looking weak or unkempt. So what happened before he was beamed to Earth that made him look so damn pathetic, even for one moment of weakness?

Had he come on his own at all?

They'd used the scepter to control him. It didn't last long but it did work, which hinted that something more powerful could have a more lasting effect. Loki had been bashed around too many times to think that whatever might've been used on him would fade after a good hit on the head, like it had his minions - but that made sense too, didn't it? How strong would something need to be to bind the mind of a god into its bidding? Clint wasn't sure, but he had to imagine _pretty damn strong_.

He didn't want to take his thoughts to anyone he couldn't trust to keep quiet if needed, which only left one person. Unfortunately Natasha was back on a SHIELD mission and impossible to contact. Banner could keep secrets but Barton wasn't so sure about talking to him, since that meant the Hulk would hear the same information. Stark was a laughable option, Steve was naive, Thor was too attached. He needed someone who could keep secrets, handle pressure and give good counsel on the after-effects of potential torture without batting an eye.

He needed Pepper Potts.

His visit to Stark Tower was perfectly timed. Tony was too nosey to stay away when someone he knew was talking to Pepper, especially if that someone was male. Barton waited until it was Tony's turn in their Asgardian rotation to be, as Banner joked, ''way really indisposed'' and called to set up a casual meet. Pepper was startled but in her usual calm demeanor took the request in stride and agreed. He arrived twenty minutes early and took the secured elevator to the penthouse.

He stepped out and smiled to see that Pepper was already there, standing near a holographic image of the newer Stark Tower design. There were still repairs in process over about thirty percent of the structure, according to Tony, and Pepper insisted that improvements coincide with rebuilding. She turned to see him and smiled that warm smile she kept reserved only for those she liked. Clint wondered how long it'd taken Tony to earn that smile.

"Hi, Clint," she said. "You wanted to talk to me?"

"Yeah." He walked to one of the couches in the room, and she followed while waving at the bar. "You want anything to drink? Tony's got plenty, he won't miss it."

_Yes_. "No, thanks. This is a better conversation to have sober."

That got her concerned, and the worry that clouded her face made him rub his hands together. He sat on the couch and considered his approach. Would a gradual build-up work? He'd never had a one-on-one conversation with Pepper and wasn't sure what she preferred. She dealt with Tony - hell, she was in a relationship with the man. Did she like the jokes? Barton wasn't one for constant quips. He kept rubbing his hands and looked at her.

"What did Tony look like, when he got back from Afghanistan?"

Pepper looked shocked, hurt, fearful - none of them directed at Clint. She was responding to the flood of memories his question released, and he waited for her to sort through the emotions.

"Is Tony alright?"

"Yeah, he's fine." Clint waved a hand. "It's not about him, so much as what he went through."

He was glad Pepper didn't know his past. In truth, he shouldn't need to ask this question at all. He'd used torture more than enough times himself; he knew the look as well as anyone else. Except...he'd never tortured someone like Tony Stark. Someone strong-willed and stubborn who would die for their principles. Someone arrogant, and born with a silver spoon, powerful - someone who knew, ultimately, that they were invincible.

Someone like Loki.

Pepper was standing and heading for the bar. Clint stood and followed her, more to make sure that she didn't have to raise her voice to be heard than to get his own drink. He sat on a bar stool and watched her start the process of making herself a very dirty martini.

"I need a drink for this. Are you sure you don't want one?" He shook his head, and she continued. "I'll ask _why_ later. Tony looked...terrible. He looked sick, and..." She took a deep breath. "He wasn't alright."

"I know." Barton felt guilty for making her relive these memories. It was odd to him that she cared so deeply for Tony. The man was a renowned womanizer. Did she let him?...was he monogamous now? It seemed like such a sudden shift.

Pepper continued as she shook the drink and started to pour it into an olive-lined glass. "I'm not sure what you're looking for. He was shaken up. I wouldn't say broken, he's too stubborn for that. But he was definitely changed."

Clint suddenly knew what to ask next, and who to ask. It would need to wait. He pursed his lips and exhaled through his nose. "Did he have PTSD at all?"

Pepper was in the middle of a healthy sip of her martini, and she choked as she laughed. She put the glass down and looked put-upon. "Yeah, but the Tony way. Total come-apart. He almost bankrupted the company. He didn't even tell me he was -"

She stopped herself, then amended and kept on. "That he was having trouble, but you could tell. He acted like he was _dying_."

And he had been, but she wasn't sure if that was common knowledge at SHIELD and she didn't want to reveal a weakness if she didn't have to.

_Total come-apart_. Barton pressed his fingers together. Tony was a billionaire; his come-apart was directed at his company first, himself second. Everyone at SHIELD knew that Iron Man, despite his relatively good standing with the public, was a raging alcoholic when pressed too hard. But Tony wasn't a god. Thor had told them about _his_ "come apart," where he took a grudge match to another planet and tried his damnedest to start a war with an enemy race. Thor hadn't been tortured before that; he'd just had a bad day. Did Loki have a bad day, too? What would a godly come-apart look like after torture was thrown in?

Would it look like trying to take over a world?

Clint stood and smiled at Pepper. "Thanks. This has really helped."

"No problem." Pepper glanced at the hologram behind him, the tower she and Tony built. "Don't tell Tony about this, he doesn't like talking about Afghanistan."

"I won't." Clint was already headed for the elevator, and Pepper called out after him.

"Why do you ask, anyway?"

Clint pressed the button and turned to her while he waited for the gentle _ding_. "I'm doing research. I'm not sure I'm right yet, so..."

"So keep quiet for now." Pepper nodded. "So long as this won't hurt Tony in any way?"

For a moment, Clint wondered if Tony kept weapons behind the bar, angled in a way that hid them from visitors. If he said this might hurt Tony, would Pepper draw a gun and shoot him? He shook his head and kept smiling, feeling a bit anxious. She asked casually enough, but she kept one hand out of view.

"Not at all. He's not involved." The elevator _dinged_ behind him, and he heard the door swish open. He stepped backward and waved. When the doors closed, he let out the breath he'd been holding and got the distinct feeling that he'd just dodged a literal bullet.

* * *

Jane looked at Tony's collection of classic rock, jazz, blues, and other assorted vinyls and announced, ''We need some instruments.''

Tony looked at the same collection, distracted from trying to figure out how to plug a miniature arc reactor into the record player to eliminate the need for crank power and said, "uh-wha?"

"Instruments. I think we should share ours with Asgard. They love music here!" Jane looked at Tony, who was already grinning at the possibilities, and added, "not just drums."

He winked at her.

"Or electric guitars."

He smile turned to a scowl.

"We need to show them everything we can offer."

"Even the washboard?"

She laughed and picked out a record. "Maybe not that one. We should - is this _Daft Punk?_"

"We want to give them lots of samples, right? Samples that sample. Two birds, one stone."

"How are you even getting vinyls of these?" She shook her head and kept fanning through the modern music. "Modest Mouse? Endochine?" She choked. "Is that Stone Temple Pilots?"

"I told JARVIS I wanted every album ever. I can make new elements, vinyls are easy."

"I'm really not sure they'll appreciate the musical stylings of Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds."

"We can't decide for them, now can we?" Tony sat back on his rump and considered the mechanism he'd built for the record player, then the arc reactor in his hand. "It wouldn't be neighborly."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm tired of cranking this thing."

Jane laughed. "You make Thor crank it half the time."

"Yeah, well, the sight isn't as pleasurable for some of us." She blushed and stuttered and he grinned. "So easy. Anyway, this will keep this thing powered without having to crank it."

"You made an arc just for _that_?"

Tony scoffed and rolled his eyes. "It's my original."

Jane's jaw dropped, and she reached for it. Tony handed it over with a smirk. "This is the one you built in..."

"Yep."

Jane was impressed. The machinery was sophisticated, especially considering the man had to build it in a cave in Afghanistan without anything resembling state of the art equipment. She whistled.

"Can you make some more? Bringing electricity has been...hard. They don't really go for fossil fuels like we do, and there's not many places to mine on a flat planet. Besides, this would be better."

"You want me to _share_ the arc?"

Jane raised her eyebrows at him. "Well, yeah. Is that a problem?"

Tony looked surprised, and narrowed his eyes. "You didn't watch my Congressional hearing, did you?"

"Your what?"

Well, that explained it. Tony sighed and reached to take the arc back; Jane handed it over immediately, still looking confused. "I won't even share this crap with my own country. Why would I give it to another planet?"

"You're already putting it into the record player."

"Besides, I don't think their engineers would 'get it.'"

Jane laughed, thinking of the schematics and books handed over by the crown's finest scientific minds. "Oh, I think you'd be surprised."

"Even more reason not to share."

Jane was annoyed. "You're really not going to give it up?"

"Depends how nice you ask." For once, she was too annoyed with the topic of conversation to flush a bright red. Instead her cheeks took on a healthy pink hue. "Oh, fine - this is copyrighted technology. If I give it away, my CEO won't be happy."

"But you'll leave it here in a record player?"

"Who's gonna know?" Tony winked at her and slipped the old arc inside of the player, then shut the small wooden door he'd carved and built into the side. In an instant, the record player was just the same as it had always been - just without the manual labor. He left the crank, though, and Jane had a sneaking suspicion that he would still demand that someone crank it to amuse himself.

"You're a jerk, Stark," she said, and she couldn't stop herself from laughing. He winked again and grinned wide.

"You gonna tattle on me, Foster?"

"Heck no. Let'em crank it."

He laughed and took the offered album, then scowled. "I am not putting on ABBA."

"We need to test it, don't we?"

"Give me the Zeppelin."

"Get it yourself."

"Foul wench!" His tone was jovial, despite the words, and Jane laughed.

"You've been around Fandral too much."

"Now you sound like Pepper."

There was no mistaking the fondness in him, and the slight suspicion. Jane laughed and shook her head. Tony's aloofness was absent whenever the woman in question was Pepper Potts.

"You're really happy with her, aren't you?" Jane picked at the vinyl cover and watched him for a reaction. Tony snorted.

"Doing an article for a gossip rag?"

"I guess I could sell the info if I wanted. I'd probably make a lot of money, too! I'll put out an ad. 'Learn the secrets of the great Tony Stark for one mil, even.'"

He shook his head and stood up, stretching his legs. "You're selling my value short."

"Or you're selling it _long_."

"Hey!" He feigned annoyance. "I'll have you know my self-confident swagger was earned through years of -"

"-wanton debauchery and shameless womanizing." Natasha entered the room with a crooked grin at Tony's annoyed glare. "What, did you think no one knew that? That's your _sell_."

"I won't have my name tarnished to the fair Lady Jane."

"Gah, stop that." Jane fluttered her hand in the air, blushing even through her annoyance. "It's so gallant I want to puke."

"You're dating a Renaissance fair, you'd better get used to it."

Jane sniffed haughtily. "He calls me Jane, thank you." Natasha and Tony both stared at her with matching sets of crossed arms, and she grumbled. "Most of the time."

"I thought you were on a mission," Tony said to Natasha. She raised her eyebrows. "What? You think I didn't know? C'mon, where else would you be?"

"I do take vacations."

Now it was Jane and Tony's turn to stare at her. She huffed. "I came back with Steve. Jane, you're up in two days. Nick wants to discuss technological swaps."

"We're already swapping some weapons, and Tony and I are working on the electricity -"

"Bigger stuff." Natasha glanced at Tony, who narrowed his eyes.

"Fury's not giving away any of _my_ tech without -"

"Not everything is about you."

"Ah, shut it, Cap." Tony scratched the back of his head, thinking. What other tech could they want to swap? He glanced at Natasha - who'd glanced at him when it came up - and blinked. "He doesn't mean..."

"The Council wants us all back on Earth with Jane. They want to discuss...a certain option."

"The same Council who ordered a nuke on Manhattan?"

"_What?_" Jane stared open-mouthed at the both of them, and Tony didn't flinch. Natasha just nodded.

"The same. Fury will fill us in on the details, but everyone's being called down."

"Welp," Tony said. "Wouldn't want Mother to fret, now would we?"

* * *

Sif liked to stay close at hand when Steve Rogers was within Asgardian borders. The human was willing to accept her offers for a sparring match where so many of Asgard's finest shied away, fearing the status that would befall them if they lost to a woman - even if that woman was Lady Sif. She had learned much of Steve's character during their matches: he refused to lose when lost to the battle, he struggled to strike a woman directly - a weakness she took advantage of despite her enjoyment of their battles - and he felt the weight of his years more keenly with every passing day.

She noticed that he seemed more confident and less distant on Asgard, or at least he smiled more readily according to the slanted comments of the other Avengers. She decided to question him on this, but in their usual way - with blows to lance the festering wounds within. Sif, for her part, felt nothing festering within her that she was willing to admit to, and Steve Rogers was more than willing to open up about whatever troubles pestered him.

He stood at the edge of the practice ring, wrapping a thick cloth around his right fist which would assist in sparing his knuckles from their heavy blows. Sif wrapped her hands as well, more to appease his mortal concerns than because she needed the protection. She was more than capable of withstanding her own blows, and it troubled her that human hands split so easily when tested.

She did not like to see Steve injured.

Already trouble weighed her friend down, and she frowned across the circle at him. By this point in preparations he was often chatting, less awkwardly than in weeks past, of Midgard and its obscure ways. He treasured his realm, that much was obvious - and yet he resented its current form in many ways. She remembered Midgard from so many years before, when its highest species died so much younger and fought terrible battles against each other. She wondered if Steve were perhaps caught in a flight of imagined fancy about his own people's natures.

She stepped into the circle and called out, "well met Steve Rogers! I will win this day!"

Steve stepped in with a sudden grin, and bowed as he'd learned from other Asgardians - an appropriate bow for a warrior of Sif's abilities - and gender. Her eyebrows rose and she wondered who had taught him that trick. She would explain later that the bow was only a half-compliment; he was too good-natured to realize such a thing, and whoever had taught him surely meant her to be pricked at by the action. Even now, after so many years, there were those who sought to irk her for her unnatural, manly tendencies.

Steve stepped forward and braced himself into a fighter's pose she hadn't seen him use yet. His feet were planted as normal, yet his fists were raised and clearly braced for heavy blows. She stepped closer and eyed him warily.

"It's called boxing," he said to her confusion. "Meat and potatoes fighting. Try to hit me." Sif nodded, then swung her hand forward in a powerful arc. He ducked his entire upper torso in the direction of the swing, allowing her fist to graze right past his ear, and leveled a fist directly into her left side that drove the breath from her lung. She staggered to the side, surprised, and his feet danced an odd rhythm as he skittered after her, staying close enough to hug rather than leaping away. So close that she could not gain her footing and use the momentum by distance to add power to her blows. This style of fighting was close-set, intimate - it did not allow for relief or gearing up. She would need to rely on the strength of her arms more than the strength of her moves.

She liked it.

She squared off and shot a fist upward, aiming for his cheek. One of his arms snaked out and drove her fist downward - he _took the blow _to his torso even as his second hand plowed into the side of her head.

She pushed away and stared, open-mouthed. He immediately dropped his hands and looked concerned. "Sif, I'm -"

She spun and planted her booted foot into his abdomen, sending him flying back several feet to land heavily on the ground. He cried out a loud "oof!" and then lay there, laughing. He sat up and shook his head as though dizzy. "Works every time."

She smirked, feeling haughty. "That dance, you say it's called 'boxing?'"

"Yeah, it's a sport back home." Steve was standing and rubbing his belly where he could feel a foot-shaped bruise starting to form.

"You will teach me?"

His eyebrows rose, and he nodded. "Yeah, sure. It's big with footwork." Over their time together, he'd learned that she had a propensity for large, flashy moves based on power, and less of a propensity for quick, darting movements. "It'll help you be faster."

She laughed and nodded. "That is fair, friend Rogers." He was panting and looking to the side, and she followed his eyes to the palace. His friends were there, along with the Tesseract machine they used to move between the realms. She'd heard that within a day they would all travel back, having been summoned away. Sif only hoped their return might be swift.

"What troubles you today?"

Steve laughed quietly and shook his head. "It's something different every day, isn't it?" He sighed and approached her, then began positioning her feet and arms into a boxer's stance. The task helped him focus on other thoughts, and she was a willing participant in both lessons.

"Fury - our boss - he called us in to discuss something big. I think I know what it is. No, keep your foot pointed that way. I know it feels unnatural but it's how your feet need to point." She adjusted her weight to the unnatural position and felt as though her feet were pointing outward from her body. He nodded. "Yeah, like that - and Fury said the Council's involved. That's my worry."

"Who is the Council?"

"They're the ones who, uh...they wanted to kill a lot of people to get rid of Loki's army. A lot of civilians."

Mention of Loki darkened her mood, and now her own gaze strayed to the castle where the traitor was imprisoned. His name alone still evoked such strong emotions. Anger - betrayal - disappointment - _he'd been a friend, and yet -_

_They wanted to kill a lot of people to get rid of Loki's army_. Sif gasped. "Do you suspect they will demand more amends, for Loki's attempt on Midgard?"

"Yeah." Steve was next to her now, eyeing her arms, and then stood next to her. "Step forward, like this, and hold your feet straight. It feels really weird for a while. You'll need to practice this stance, a lot, to make it natural. Then you'll have fancy feet too."

She stepped and felt her ankle crook her foot back to her natural setting. She was annoyed and reset herself, then tried again. She focused hard and her foot protested the angle. She reset, and stepped again.

"I'm not sure if they'll want it from Asgard. They might want Loki to be brought back...but I'm thinking they want something bigger." He stepped with her, to let her mimic his actions rather than focus on her own. After the thirtieth such step, her foot protested less and resigned itself to her new positioning. "Good, now throw a punch when you step, straight forward, make sure you bend your arm to - sorry." He saw her pointed look that clearly screamed _I know how to punch_ and backed off, instead just doing what he'd suggested - punching as he stepped. His arm curved upright and his two front knuckles braced forward to take the majority of any blow landed, to preserve the weaker bottom set of knuckles. Sif copied. He nodded his approval.

"Loki used to be your friend, didn't he?" Her stance faltered and she straighted in surprise at the question, then resumed her practice.

"Yes."

"Was he always, uh..."

"Insane?' He shot her a sympathetic look, but her face was stone. "No. Jealous of Thor, always, but never so frenzied. He is a liar, and mischievous, but never cruel." She punched, and her feet stayed in formation. She smiled. "My hair was once golden as the sunlight, until he changed it black as midnight."

"He changed your hair?" Steve paused in his movements to eyes the locks with shock. "And you were still friends? Earth women wouldn't be so forgiving, I think."

Sif laughed. "In truth, it helped me later in my endeavors. I was not a golden maiden but a black-haired lass, and my appearance earned me somewhat less scorn."

"Judged for how you looked, huh?" He punched, his face grim. "Never a good experience."

"In truth," she admitted, "being a woman was often lacking in good experiences for me. It is easier to be as a man, and battle alongside my friends."

"Sometimes you just know what you're meant to be, no matter what anyone tells you."

"Yes," Sif replied, as she punched the empty air and envisioned the faces of so many who called her names worse than those uttered to the inhabitants of whorehouses, merely because she wished to take up a sword. "That is exactly it."

* * *

The Avengers were gathered upon the Bifrost, with Thor's friends close at hand to bid their farewells. Dr. Banner shifted nervously and Thor once again assured him that Lynn Creed was in good hands with the resident healers.

"Asgard is more than capable of taking care of your mortal woman, Banner."

Bruce smiled at the thunder god and kept shifting. He hadn't forgotten who else was supposed to be helping. Luckily, neither had Thor.

"I have requested an abeyance while we are absent from the realm," Thor said more quietly to the doctor. "He will not come near her while we are far abroad."

Bruce relaxed and smiled more honestly. Thor clapped his shoulder in good humor, though his eyes were dark with concern. His brother was a constant thorn in the side of anyone who came near.

Tony and Jane were the last to arrive, dragging one of Tony's hefty cases behind them. Thor strode forward to offer to help, but Tony waved him away. "You're never breaking my stuff again!"

"I dropped but one case -"

"The one with the _Black Sabbath_, yeah. Git." Thor pouted back in line and Jane laughed, stepping away from Iron Man to comfort her beau with a brilliant smile and affectionate kiss. The thunder god lifted his hammer to his friends, who beamed back at him. Fandral scratched his beard. "I declare, Thor, when will we be allowed to grace your Midgard, that we may also partake of such beauties?"

Jane flushed a deep red and Thor bellowed his laughter. The Tesseract flashed behind them, as though impatient for this to be over with. Natasha stepped closer to it, and all of the travelers moved within range and checked themselves for anything they might need to take along.

"Go ahead, Natasha." Steve gave Sif a haunted, near-pleading look, and the Tesseract's power gobbled them up to spit them out at the other side of the universe.

* * *

Loki paced, as he often did when he felt no eyes upon him. He understood that Heimdall likely watched, even now, yet that was so different from the stares of physical eyes upon him. His fingers twitched in irritation. Something had happened; his guard presence seemed increased, and he hadn't been allowed near the comatose woman for a full day. And where was Thor? The oaf could hardly stand a full twelve hours without at least one visit to the brother he wished he had, especially now that said brother seemed more willing to gab.

Loki never said anything worthwhile to Thor. He was very careful in what he revealed to his false brother.

Eyes, then - bright and alluring, and his pacing halted when he realized that he recognized that gaze. It was a gaze fastened on him many times during his long life, and his body was well-accustomed to the steadfast unwavering stare. He turned and saw Frigga descending on silent slippers. She watched him as well, and he tensed under her scrutiny. As a mother who has raised her child, she knew that something troubled this son more recently than other slights.

He saw her question before she spoke it and hissed, turning away. He had never rejected her, not _her _- and yet she had rejected him before he ever had chance to learn that sting.

_Why have you saved this?_ The words he'd never heard haunted his thoughts and tore his mind to pieces. But he would never show her, not _her_. His greatest weaknesses were kept close, bound in his chest, and he was not the type to lance a wound.

"Loki," she said. He turned and folded his hands behind his back. After a moment, he tilted his head to her out of respect, and replied, "Lady Queen."

She regarded him and stepped within the chambers, circling around his perimeter. Unlike Thor, or Odin, or even the little spider, she stayed well out of range of the binding circle. Could she sense his rage, even from this distance?

"You have not requested an audience with me."

Loki blinked and creased his brow. "My Lady Queen, I am not-"

"I know that Odin has spoken with you." She raised a hand when he started to protest. "I know not what was spoken, but I am your mother and may guess at your sudden distance. He spoke of your coming to us, did he not?"

The trickster felt tension in his chest, tight and welling higher. He might've called it despair if he understood the emotion. "Do you still see it around me, Frigga?" She looked at him sternly at his casual address of her name, a word he'd never used in all the years they'd been bound as mother and son. "Does death still surround me?"

"As ever it did, and more now." Frigga stopped in front of him, still a foot away from his circle, and folded her hands in front of her waist. "You were a difficult child to know, Loki. But I see you, as much as I see what surrounds you."

"Do you?" Loki snarled. "Do you truly?"

"It is as a crescendo. It builds, and builds - and every action you have taken these past two years has led to more, so much more. I fear that your path is set now, where before it was merely potential." She blinked away the tears. "I fear that your destiny is coming faster."

"Which destiny?"

Frigga turned away and swiped a finger underneath one eye. She didn't intend to answer, so he pressed forward to his circle and hissed at her. "Which destiny, Frigga?"

"Ragnarok." The word swelled and poured into his head, and he felt that he'd heard it before, felt it strum a connection within him. Yet he couldn't remember where.

"What is that?"

She shook her head and stepped away, the suffering mother melting away until she become a queen once more. "Thor and his friends are gone to Midgard. You will be confined here until they return."

He wanted to shake the answer from her, strike out and make her scream until the truth was ripped from her throat. Instead, he bowed again, and gave her a mocking smile which brought unshed tears to her eyes.

"As the Lady Queen commands."

* * *

SHIELD was bustling with activity when the Avengers materialized. Clint was waiting on the platform with his arms crossed, and his expression softened into a friendly smile when he saw Natasha. Two agents stepped forward to grab the box Jane stood next to, and she directed them on where to take it while babbling about what new Asgardian treasures it contained - fruits, and weapons, and ore samples, and some instruments, and couldn't they find some instruments to send back?...

Nick Fury also stood on the platform, and met Steve's eyes with a stern glare. Steve gestured to the other Avengers. Apparently the meeting was right now. Tony groaned and insisted he be allowed to at least take the suit off first, which Nick allowed. He gave them twenty minutes to straighten up, and stormed away to the council room.

Jane and the box left the platform, ushered by both SHIELD agents and scientists, and a few anthropologists who'd been called in from the outside to start studying the Asgardian wares. They practically drooled over her gifts, and together they left in a large group, the box trailing behind them.

The Avengers filed off the platform, Steve, Natasha and Banner using the provided stairs while Tony and Thor simply hopped down. Clint followed Natasha, and on the ground they all sized each other up. Steve broke the silence.

"Twenty minutes, everyone. Do what you need to and get to the meeting room."

"Heading straight over, aren't you? Suck up." Tony stretched in his suit and felt a vertebrae pop. "I'll get there when I get there."

He strolled from the room with Banner behind him and Steve quietly amended his mental clock to thirty minutes instead of twenty. He hoped Fury didn't expect total punctuality.

Clint stepped close to Thor and said, "Can I talk with you for a second?" The thunder god nodded to the diminutive archer, and the two took their leave of the room as well. Steve and Natasha looked at each other. He tried to smile, and she tightened her grip on the scepter.

"I'll see you in the meeting." She left, and Steve felt out of place. He looked around at the SHIELD agents still present, then turned and left as well. He could use a short jog to relax, and belatedly realized that he could've tried to ask Natasha for a quick spar - just to clear his mind.

* * *

"What was Loki like before?"

Clint had taken them to a restroom and locked the door, knowing that this was the only location that SHIELD didn't constantly monitor. Thor was shocked by his question, and the thunder god rumbled in suspicion.

"I know you do not care for my brother, Agent Barton -"

Clint shook his head. "No, I don't, but that's not why I'm asking. Does he seem different now?" Thor hesitated, and Clint continued. "You're the only one here who knew him before, so you're the only one who'd know."

"Yes," Thor replied, sadly. "He was quite different. He had humor to his tricks, and he was never so thirsty for power or vengeance."

"Thor," Clint said, and braced himself, "do you think your brother was hurt before coming here?"

"Hurt?" Thor looked puzzled. "By whom?"

"I'm not sure. But when he showed up - and I was there, trust me when I say, he looked like absolute hell." Thor creased his brow. "There's video surveillance if you need to see what I mean."

Thor was more than troubled now. "It takes great effort to injure the Æsir -" _or the __Jötun, he thought_ - "- and greater for Loki, whose own magic can heal him."

Clint blew a puff of air through his nose. That explained how quickly Loki cleaned himself up after arriving.

"Do you think Loki was injured before he was sent to Midgard?" Clint slanted a look at Thor's question. It seemed like the thunder god had come to the same conclusion as the archer: Loki hadn't come on his own, he'd been sent. Clint wasn't sure he was relieved by that fact, but he felt better for not being the only one to think it.

"Yeah," he said. "I do. He was still able to fight - and kill - a lot of people when he got here, but he staggered right after. He...obviously wasn't feeling great."

Thor's face darkened, interrupted by a loud rap on the door. "Is anyone in there," a voice cried. "Open up! I gotta go!"

Thor nodded to Clint, who moved to open the door. As he walked Thor confirmed his suspicions in one fell swoop of his mighty voice.

"Loki was sent at the bidding of another, but he will not tell me who controlled him."

"Damn," Clint said as he unlatched the lock and let in the desperate-looking agent.

"Indeed," was all the thunder god replied.

* * *

"We're mostly here, sir. What's this about?"

Steve hadn't taken a seat this time, instead preferring to stand behind a chair with his arms crossed. He was dressed in civilian clothes along with Bruce. Thor was unarmored, and Natasha and Clint wore their standard black SHIELD wear. Nick, of course, was in the same, as was Maria Hill behind him.

Fury started as soon as Tony sidled into the room fifteen minutes late. "The Council has become very interested in the Tesseract travel we're exploiting, and they've ordered a counterstrike against the Chitauri."

Tony tsked. "What, bigger than a warhead right up their asses?"

Fury looked him right in the eyes. "No. About the same size."

It took some of them longer to understand than others, and the wave of realization swept across the table until only Thor looked confused. Steve could barely choke the words out. "They've ordered a nuclear strike on the Chitauri homeland?"

"They feel that if the Chitauri are willing to capture Earth's residents, they've forfeit the right to diplomatic relations."

"What would this mean?" Thor looked at Steve and Bruce, who most seemed the most affected by this announcement. Tony spoke up with a strangled laugh.

"It means the Council really wants to put the 'A' in 'Avengers.'"

When Thor still didn't react, Bruce clarified further. "It means they want us to kill them all."

"What?" Thor turned horrified eyes to Fury. "You cannot destroy an entire race!"

_Why not? You could have killed them all with your bare hands!_

Nick looked almost relieved to see the stark horror on the majority of their faces. If even the Viking was disturbed by this plan, there was still hope that it wouldn't go through. "I agree. But the Council is pushing pretty hard - which means they're willing to supersede my orders to do it."

"They'll compromise the Tesseract?" Natasha's eyes widened.

"They countermanded my authority last time." Fury glanced at Tony. "It ended up working in our favor, but we can't make that assumption every time."

"So we need to guard the Tesseract."

"Or just the scepter." Bruce looked at Natasha. "They can't activate it without that, right? It's easier than guarding the machine."

"I'll never let it out of my sight." Natasha's voice was cold and hard to read as ever. Bruce was happy she was on their side and not the Council's.

"So now we're babysitting Loki's doomstick to stop the Council from killing the race that tried to kill us." Tony raised his hand in a fake salute, cupping his empty hand as though he held a drink. "Cheers!"

"Do we still need the coordinates in the machine?" Steve looked at Tony and Bruce, who both seemed shocked by his input. "That's how we got there, right? Can we erase it, now we don't need it?"

"Well...yeah, yeah we could. And since they can't get to Heimdall, they can't get'em back." Tony saluted Steve with his phantom drink. "Good on you."

"Do it," Fury said, and Tony rolled his eyes. "Yes, you do need authorization from me to do it - at least in principle. So do it."

"Gee, thanks boss." Tony nudged Banner, who left with the billionaire to work on the machine. Steve turned to Natasha.

"You should still keep the scepter at all times, just in case. You can use it when -"

"No, I can't." The remaining men all turned to her with scowls. "I never could use it. It's powered by magic. But I can watch it."

"On the mountain," Steve started slowly, "you shot a normal flare."

She and Clint both nodded. "The scepter never worked for me. It only works for Loki. Or the Tesseract."

"Alright, Agent Romanoff keeps the scepter, Tony and Dr. Banner will take care of the machine. That's the best we can do." Nick pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I could take the Tesseract back to Asgard, for good," Thor offered. He sounded sad at the idea. He'd grown used to the constant comings and goings of his friends and Jane. Still, some causes were worthwhile. "To take such an act would incite war amongst the realms, as Midgard showed its might in full."

"The 'higher form of war' you mentioned," Steve asked.

"Yes."

"Let's try the easy way first. If we need to be more drastic, we will be." Nick looked at Thor. "I'll let you know."

A tense silence followed. Finally, Natasha broke it with an unrelated question. Sort've.

"So, any new weapons to share with me and Clint? Those sputterstones helped a ton."

"Actually," Thor replied with a smile, "my lady has requested instruments to return. Could you perhaps make some suggestions for what we could take back?"

They debated, they decided, and Nick let them know they would travel back to Asgard in three days to give the appearance of trying to follow the Council's orders. The suspicions could wait until later.


	12. Kansas City Shuffle

_In case you are wondering: yes, I will go more into the "lessons" mentioned in this chapter in later chapters. Also, I sure love talking characters! _

* * *

_Give 'em the old three ring circus_  
_Stun and stagger 'em_  
_When you're in trouble, go into your dance_  
_Though you are stiffer than a girder_  
_They'll let you get away_  
_(with murder)_

* * *

"Dr. Banner."

Bruce flinched and tried to pretend he hadn't heard Fury's stern imploring voice, instead focusing on the monitor in front of him. The screen was filled with medical research and papers on mental illnesses involving catatonia. He was in the research zone, and more he didn't want to have this conversation now, when none of the other Avengers were around. Of course, that was the reason Fury _did_ - and that worried him.

"Dr. Banner, we need to talk about your patient."

Cornered. Bruce sighed and took off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. "She's not speaking yet."

"Speaking" was a very specific term. It was more accurate to say she wasn't interacting, at all, but Bruce suspected that SHIELD was more concerned with her ability to speak and respond to questions.

"I assumed that." Fury sounded annoyed. Bruce still wasn't turning to look at him, so Fury gave up waiting and started in earnest. "The Council feels that she should be moved back to Earth."

"Before or after we nuke the Chitauri for them?"

Silence for a moment. Then: "Before. She's a citizen of Earth, not Asgard, and we don't want to impose on their hospitality any longer than necessary. It's a new alliance and the Council thinks we'll wear out our welcome."

Bruce laughed and shook his head, then put his glasses on and turned to face Fury. He noted how tired the SHIELD director looked. Even the patch looked worn out.

"They worried they'll make her a political prisoner?"

"Something like that."

Bruce's amusement faded away. "They'd never do that."

"We don't know that. We know Thor is an ally. We also know his brother isn't. We've only met two of them, and the percentages of hostiles isn't in our favor."

"I thought Thor's friends helped in New Mexico?"

Nick's mouth quirked at the side. "But not in New York. They're listed as unknowns for now."

Bruce leaned against his work bench and crossed his arms, giving Fury the floor to plead his case. Fury didn't hesitate.

"The two Asgardians we've met long-term are heavily invested in Earth - for completely separate reasons. The Council is worried that other Asgardians will take this as inspiration. Or an opportunity, with the Avengers moving between the realms."

"Isn't the alliance to stop that kind of thing?"

"It could work. I think it _will_ work, but the Council disagrees. They want to remove any potential leverage."

"Wait." Bruce raised a hand and creased his brow. "They want to remove leverage because they think there could be a fight, and they want us to nuke the Chitauri because?..."

"They want her back _before_ the strike."

Banner shook his head. The pieces weren't fitting, and Tony wasn't around to snap and snark while Banner worked things out on his own. He thought more clearly when attention wasn't focused on him. What was the connection here? Move the girl before the strike - why? Why would...Banner tensed. A new alliance with Earth, which then destroyed another race completely. As far as implied threats went, it was a powerful message.

"They want us to strike without telling Asgard first, don't they? They think the strike could incite a war with Asgard."

"What do you think?"

"I think the Council's full of idiots."

Nick sighed and nodded. "That's what I think too. They're out for blood against the Chitauri, and are willing to make enemies of Asgard in the process."

"It makes sense." Bruce raised his eyebrows at Nick's surprised expression. "What? It fits their M.O. doesn't it? Who did they think would take the blame for Manhattan? Nuclear tech is pretty human. If the Chitauri had a weapon like that, nobody'd believe they'd use it on themselves."

Fury's jaw tightened.

"And they don't want to tell the Asgardian kingdom - just the crown prince? What's that about?"

"Thor has the highest amount of investment in Earth."

Bruce laughed. "They'd rather he break the news because he'll plead our case for us? Asking forgiveness instead of permission seems like a bad habit to start in intergalactic relations. Asgard has alliances with other worlds too, and news travels fast."

Fury was overcome with an odd mixture of anger and relief. It was a comfort to know that his team was so in line with his own thoughts. "You're right. They're going to ruin our chances with any other world. We'll throw the stick around before anyone can hear our soft voice, and that just makes us -"

"Threats. Enemies." Bruce tucked one hand under his chin and watched Nick closely. "Monsters that need to be put down."

Fury didn't flinch. "Alright. Forget the Council for now." Nick sounded relieved, but the topic had strayed too far for his comfort. "What about Creed? We need to move her home."

"She can't be moved right now."

"It's been two months."

Bruce jerked away from the table to turn and scan over the documents on his monitor. "I know. She's safe, she's surrounded by better medicine than we've got. If anything can wake her up, it'll be there."

"You're sure about that?"

Bruce nodded, writing a long note in his notebook with scrawling penmanship. To his surprise, he heard Fury leave the room without further debate and paused. There was another angle at play here, and Bruce needed to figure it out so that he could prepare himself.

In fairness, moving Creed to Earth wasn't a terrible idea. She'd be in familiar surroundings and it might draw her out. But...then what? She'd wake up in a SHIELD hospital - a cage, as Tony put it - and be questioned about the Chitauri. SHIELD wasn't known for their compassion, and the idiot Council would want to know everything about the alien race once they figured out the Avengers weren't going to commit genocide on their behalf. All those bodies gave them biology; footage of the fight gave them perspective. But only two people might know a motive, and of the two only one didn't have a large, powerful big brother protecting them.

The Council would demand to know a cause, a leader. And when Creed either gave them the information or couldn't supply it, her use would dissolve. Bruce knew the nature of SHIELD. Nick Fury was a good enough man in the crunch, but the place was filled with assassins and soldiers following orders. And the Council had already overridden his orders once to make a decidedly merciless call. Balance an entire city against one woman with no one to ask after her, who might know valuable information?

Bruce sighed. Creed was safer in Asgard, far outside of the Council's clutches. Banner just hoped Nick thought the same thing. He wasn't sure he could stop the Other Guy if the Council's demands intensified.

* * *

It was the darkest time of night, the witching hour, and Loki was always most active when his magic was strongest. His nightly visits to Midgard were done, and he missed the mental stimulation of keeping his own lies in place while manipulating the mortals he encountered. The All-Father wouldn't return for a month out of respect for his own proclamation. Frigga likely wouldn't come now that the trickster knew how he appeared to her. And Thor was gone off to Midgard with his mortal whore and entourage.

Loki was left alone, with no one to bother him. Normally he would revel in the solitude, but he was refused literature of any kind and his magic...

Loki raised his hands to inspect the manacles for what felt like the thousandth time. He scanned the runes and snarled at the quiet hum only a magician might hear from them. He had yet to discover a method to remove the blasted things. Still, they served their purpose: reminding those around him that for now, his magic was inaccessible to him. A wonderful perception, made better by the fact that he alone knew the lie.

He flexed his fingers and smiled as he let his memories wander. He'd told Thor he'd grown in his exile, and where could a magician grow but in the use of his own magic? Not one realized his latest trick, his new ability learned after tumbling through the void into the care of another more powerful being. He'd fallen for days, years, eons. He'd cursed everyone who slighted him over his long life, and then those who hadn't. He'd cursed Thor to the bowels of the most unforgiving realms. And when he'd run clear of all cursing, he simply fell until, with great shock, he hit solid rock.

The crater he created upon impact spread thirty feet in any direction, with the dazed god lying in the center. He'd lain there for hours, blinking at the stars overhead until they were no longer blurry. One rib popped back into place; the second followed. When his entire ribcage had righted itself, he rolled onto his side and spat blood onto the ground. Another hour, and he felt well enough to slide his unbroken arm beneath him and push himself to his knees. His body fought to mend itself as he gazed out at the landscape. Barren grey rock, and yet lacking the distinct chill of Jötunheimr. He'd sat back on his ankles and contemplated this new world, and a noise behind him brought him racing around with hands raised. Magic flared in a wide arch, following his hands, and he rose to his feet in a smooth motion despite the many complaints of his still-mending limbs.

It wasn't the Chitauri who discovered him, and the being standing there was no Jötun. Tall, clothed, gleaming yellow eyes and a molten rock face. His very essence screamed power on a whole new level to the trickster, and Loki felt a flash of irritation that he might have fallen through the void only to die on the other end.

The beast made no move to kill him, though, and the two gazed at each other until Loki lowered his hands. The magic seeped back inside of his form and he bowed his head in slight respect. If this were not this realm's king, it wouldn't hurt to be known to show respect regardless.

"My apologies for trespassing," he ground out. His voice grated against its disuse. When his company said nothing, Loki spoke again. "What realm is this?"

The being, with his gleaming eyes and molten face, spoke then. Loki saw the mouth move and understood that he was being addressed, and yet he did not _hear_ a word. Instead the dialogue slammed straight into his mind, leaving him reeling - as though this creature spoke on a plane far above those who surrounded him.

_Not one of the Nine, __Jötun. _

The title stung and Loki lashed out, the insult of his heritage still too fresh in his mind to take lightly.

"I am Loki, King of Asgard. Who are you?"

_King?_ The being smiled and Loki wondered at the pleasure he felt in the trickster's words. _Then Odin is dead?_

Loki's chest clenched in fear at the prospect of Odin's demise, and he replied with a prompt "No." Despite his many insults, to think that Odin might be _dead_ - it wasn't true anyway, and the smile was less sane than Loki liked. He preferred not to bring a terrible battle upon the kingdom he'd sworn to protect, unlike his idiot of a false brother.

The denial disappointed the being. His smile leeched away to an impassive boredom, though insanity clung to him like draping skin. Loki was struck with the need to leave his presence, swiftly. The insanity pouring from the beast was strong and shared the same qualities as his voice; the trickster could feel it penetrating his own mind, whispering sweet seductions into the core of his insecurities. _Just give in_, it whispered sweetly, so deep inside of his chest. _Just give in and see how much mischief you'll make._

Loki took a step back and the whispers lessened. The being took this for what it was - an insult - and gestured to his hands.

_Why do you use your hands to cast_, the beast queried. _Is the magic not part of you?_

Those words opened a new frontier to the trickster, where physicality need not be a limit to his abilities. Loki froze as revelation after revelation poured through his calculating mind. The ability to use his own magic without relying on his physical presence was a precious and treasured ability that even the strongest sorcerers rarely achieved. Was this beast one such rarity? If so, he might have use yet for the creature.

"It is," he granted, "though I am always eager to learn new tricks."

_It appears Asgard is as primitive as it was before. _The beast noted Loki's narrowed eyes at the insult. Mirth swelled in his voice. _And ever as prideful._

"You would do well to speak no ill of Asgard." Loki hissed and advanced a step closer, too late remembering the reason he'd stepped back. The whispers started again, stronger than before and insistent. _Give in, give in!_ He stepped back and gripped the side of his head until the sensation passed. The beast never moved.

_I will teach you, Asgardian_. Loki raised both brows. To be handed such a gift was unthinkable. There was something more at work here.

"In exchange for what?"

_Are you familiar with the limbs of Yggdrasil?_

Loki nodded, choosing not to reveal that he was able to travel those same limbs without further assistance from a pathway, such as the Bifrost. Some advantages were best kept to oneself.

_And the Tesseract?_

An old name for a stolen relic. Again, the trickster nodded. The being chuckled and the sound echoed around him.

_I will teach you to unbind your magic in exchange for information._ The being took a step away from the crater's edge, which allowed Loki to step forward, just outside the range of those desperate whispers. _There is great potential to an alliance between us._

Loki wasn't certain of the potential he might contribute, but he knew his prospects in this crater were dim.

_I am Thanos_, the beast said. _And believe me when I say, I am a better ally than enemy._

Loki reached forth with his hands and wrenched them in mid-air, calling forth his helmet. He poured a good deal of buffering energies into the metal, and placed it upon his head. He stepped closer, into range - the whispers were quiet and dulled. The closer he walked, the louder they became - but always in the background, muted. Manageable. He could ignore them for now, to learn this new method. He could abide for a little while, and not give in to the whispering madness flowing from Thanos.

"Show me," he said, and his own smile sealed their agreement. "Perhaps we might learn from each other."

Thanos had shown him then, and Loki remembered now. The lessons were too unpleasant to forget within a thousand lifetimes.

* * *

Barton felt it coming a mile away. Nick needed him for something very specific, and the archer had a needling suspicion about what that need could be. He kept his head down and wandered around the SHIELD craft, always several locations ahead of the director. Until he turned into a hallway, and a moment later his boss turned in from ahead of him and called, "Barton!"

Clint flinched and looked away as he stopped in his tracks to wait for Nick to approach. He composed himself into an apathetic expression and looked at Fury. "Director."

"You've been avoiding me."

"Just taking a long walk around the carrier, sir."

Fury snorted. "I'm sure. Then let's keep walking."

"Yes sir." Barton fell in step with the taller man and the two walked in silence for a few minutes. Barton knew that Fury had a real topic to discuss, as much as he knew that the director was taking a few precious moments of silence to sort his own thoughts. The archer left him in peace for those minutes and pondered his own troubles. When Fury spoke, it was as though there was no silence in between.

"Report."

"Asgard is a powerful ally, and our travels are keeping the Tesseract in our sights and away from Loki. Dr. Foster has struck up a repertoire with the king and queen, along with several of their scientists. We've gained a lot from the discussions, but she's getting pressure from universities and other agencies to take other scientists for the ride."

Fury sighed. "Is that recommended?"

"I think it could open a broader line of communication with them."

"I'll take that into consideration. What about Loki? Is he contained?"

Clint's eyes tightened, and Fury pretended he didn't notice.

"He's contained in a cell underneath the castle, and his magic is harnessed for now."

"For now?"

Clint stopped and crossed his arms, turning to meet Fury in the eye. "They sent him here as part of his punishment. Apparently Earth is considered educational to them."

"That explains Thor." Clint nodded in agreement, and their walk continued. "What about Creed?"

"She's still unresponsive. We've moved her to a room close to Thor's quarters."

"I hear you have a good time every night."

Clint blinked and looked surprised. Fury just laughed. "Stark _and_ Dr. Foster talked about it. She requested instruments to take back."

"Ah - yes, we have a gathering at night, sir. We're establishing connections with -"

"Spare me." Fury sighed and stopped; they were directly outside of the carrier bridge. "Miss Creed needs to be brought in, Barton. I need you to convince Dr. Banner."

"Why not Natasha?"

Fury looked at him sideways. "She was who I sent last time; he knows her well enough to realize he's being played now."

Barton had stopped and crossed his arms again, looking into the bridge. He nodded. "How long do I have?"

"Just get it done as soon as possible."

Barton's eyes tightened again, and he nodded. "Yes, sir."

* * *

He'd taken to the stone tablet for supposed rest, energy jittering throughout his form. Thor and his mortal pets were gone, every last one of them. This was a unique opportunity not to be missed, and a simple matter. He reached deep into his core, found that power he needed, and funneled the magic along the tether.

His doppelganger manifested in the room several floors above him and inspected itself for appearance. His awareness was split, though there was little interaction to be found in the dark chamber of his prison. He could focus above.

"It's a strange thing, isn't it."

His voice echoed throughout the room as he stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back. He stood tall and regal, his armor shining even in the darkness of the hour. Of course, he received no response. He hadn't expected one, though that didn't stop his wandering about the room.

"It's a beautiful room they've given you. Thor's insipid woman crowed over the furnishings. I should think any Midgardian woman would react the same way."

His circuit done, he turned to the figure on the bed. She was lying flat on her back with one arm resting on top of the quilt. Her eyes were closed, as expected, but she did not breathe deeply while sleeping. He stepped closer and saw the fingers of the exposed hand twitch.

He smiled.

"Strange, and unheard of. A mortal kept so long under Asgardian care, and yet to fully heal from her injuries. Unlikely, and quite impossible." His voice dropped and turned darker, rasping. "Why do you keep up the act? I know you're awake."

The hand tensed. Loki stepped to the bedside and the hand fluttered away under the covers. The girl's brow creased and she turned her face away. Loki reached to touch the opposing side and pull her face back, where he could see her.

"Open your eyes."

She did so, and her gaze fell across him, the room, the bed - anything at all, before shutting tight again. She took a shuddering breath, and her chest heaved in her fear. She did not try to pull away.

"Do you recognize me?"

She shook her head. He heard the quiet rustle of her hands underneath the quilt, grasping at the bed beneath her as though she were trying to dig herself through the silks and into the earth itself. This fear would never do. He needed something else from her. He calmed himself, cleared his throat, and removed his hand from her cheek. The rustling ceased and he raised his eyebrows.

"I will not hurt you."

Did she believe him? It was impossible to tell; she gave no reaction save deep, calming breaths. He wasn't certain she'd heard him at all.

"And I will not touch you without consent."

_That_ got a reaction. She froze, even her breaths shallow, and creased her brow. Since her eyes were closed, he allowed himself to scowl even as his voice funneled as smooth silk from his lips.

"You are safe here. This is Asgard, the Golden Realm. Home of gods and legendary heroes."

Her brow softened. He settled himself on the bed with gentle care, steering clear of her form underneath the covers while letting her feel the weight now pressing down next to her. He cursed that her eyes were still closed. At least he had her oratory attentions. He nearly reached forward to stroke her hair, until he remembered his promise from moments before. He dropped his hand.

"The Æsir will protect you. Those who hurt you will never touch you again. I swear it."

Honeyed words for a trickster's promise. All he needed was her belief. He fed slight warmth into the tether, and she sighed in sudden ease. It was so easy to manipulate these mortals; give them something they could take as a sign of favor, and they would provide the justification themselves.

"Wake soon, little mortal." He stood from the bed and stepped away, smiling. "Wake and see the glory of Asgard, before you are taken back to Earth."

She said nothing. One hand slid from the covers to press across her eyes, and she released a shuddering breath. Loki faded back to himself, and opened his natural eyes with a smile of triumph. It was so much easier to lie when the audience refused to look at him.

* * *

"We're just waiting on Thor. Everyone else ready?"

Steve stood closest to the Beam Machine, as Tony insisted on calling it (and no one else did), and looked over his team. Clint and Natasha both gave him nods of affirmation; Tony continued pitching his case to Bruce on the name of their creation.

"C'mon, it rhymes! Beam Machine!"

"It sounds like 'bean' Tony, and that just makes me think of coffee."

"Dammit. Alright, point."

"Thing's more like a boat. We can't cast off until we're all aboard, right?"

"Bruce, that was terrible."

Bruce jimmied his carrying case open to inspect the contents one last time and make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. "Well, so's Beam Machine."

"We are not calling it the _boat_."

Steve deadpanned: "Everyone on the boat yet? We've gotta get going." Tony shot him a glare and Steve feigned innocence. Natasha broke in next.

"I like the boat, it's easy to remember. Some of us still have to translate from another language in our heads, Stark."

"We are not calling it the boat!"

Fury strode into the room and nodded at Clint, then looked at Steve. "Is the boat ready?"

"Yes, sir." Tony sputtered his frustration behind them and Steve smiled. Music to his ears. Thor entered the room with Jane, who looked forlorn and distinctly lacking a bag of supplies for a trip. She hugged and kissed him as he stepped away, then looked at Tony.

"Got the instruments?"

"Yeah, a whole case of them. Guitar, flute, clarinet, trumpet -"

"Drums?"

Tony looked at Fury, who raised his eyebrows. "I was limited to one snare. One! Fury, you know -"

Steve interrupted. "Tony, you got the package?"

The mood shifted. Thor remained unaffected; he'd seen the weapon in question, but his understanding of its abilities was limited to its use defending Midgard from an alien horde. Perhaps the rest of the Avengers were unused to weapons of such power; Thor's father kept a collection of even more powerful items locked in a vault, and had often taken his sons to see them as boys and regale them with tales of their uses, both beautiful and terrifying.

He was the only one. Steve became grim, Tony looked at the smaller metal container as though it might grow fangs and attack them all, Fury and his assassins looked stern. Jane looked from Thor to the others and started to ask. Dr. Banner took that moment to finish inspecting his case's contents and snapped the latch shut, then stood to his feet and nodded.

"All ready, Captain."

Fury stepped out of range and Jane waved to all of them.

"Sorry I can't come this time! Something came up in Chicago - but I'm back next week!"

Every one of them except her knew that the timing if this "something" was carefully planned by SHIELD to keep Jane away from potential danger in Asgard. To keep Tony from blowing their cover - as it appeared he was just about to do with an undoubtedly snarky comment - Steve nodded to Natasha. "Do it." She shoved the scepter into place and the Avengers returned to Asgard with a new mission in tow.


	13. All The King's Men

_God forbid you ever had to wake up to hear the news_  
_'Cause then you really might know what it's like to have to lose_

* * *

A young life in the circus had a way of tainting a person's perception and skewing their view of their fellow man. Circus folk were transitory and often some form of social outcasts, particularly the so-called freaks of the sideshows. The acts created a false reality where humans were capable of death-defying feats for only ten dollars a ticket, every night of the week. Illusion became reality in those many nights, and Clint had learned the value of making people believe in a thorough, all-encompassing lie.

He knew how to recognize one.

The animals of the circus were always the highest focus. The beautiful tigers and jolly-seeming elephants captured the imaginations of the children and dazzled the adults with their stunning beauty and natural acrobatics. What most people ignored were the methods which made those acts work, the mechanisms behind the scenes that kept a Bengal tiger from ripping apart the man who appeared to crack a whip at it each night.

There were two methods to taming something feral. The first was pain and fear driven. Beat the animal into submission until it learns to associate your very presence with horrors. A cowering beast was easier to control in some ways, less predictable in others. Fear begot surface obedience. The big cats would obey as directed with both eyes on the trainer at all times, waiting for their chance to destroy the thing they feared. Cornered animals in a cage, watching something they hated, only to spot that moment of vulnerability in front of a ravenous crowd. It was the wrong kind of entertainment, and none of the performers wanted to clean up such a mess besides.

The better way wasn't gentle so much as opportunistic. Positive affirmation, praise, treats - kindness created a more powerful bond: blind loyalty. The big cats would swarm the kind trainer when he entered the pen and nuzzle against him. Their affection was unmistakable.

Clint hadn't taken to the animals like so many other children, but he'd still been a young boy and there was a certain appeal to the idea of a 600 pound monster obeying your every whim. When the new trainer arrived, he'd watched and listened to the man's lessons.

The trainer had let him sit and watch in the open, and enjoyed the audience. He'd tried new tricks and explained his methods. The first two weeks, the man didn't try one command or trick. He just sat outside the cats' cages and tossed them fresh meat, talking to them as though they were old friends. The cats had kept their distance for the first three days, until they learned that this was their food source. Then they approached the fences and pressed their faces against the metal, scenting it with their glands and glaring at this new addition to their pack.

In a week and a half, they became agitated until the new trainer was within sight. When he appeared with their daily meals they nuzzled the fences, desperate for his voice and treats. And by the end of the second week, he'd entered the fence with a sly wink at his young archer audience. Clint waited to see the attack he _knew_ was coming - and it never came. The man petted and cooed and the big cats circled him like kittens waiting for their treats.

"The trick is," the trainer had told him during that first week, after Clint asked what the point of not even trying to train them was, "these cats know pain. I'm showing them something new. You let them see they can trust you first. You gain their trust, you gain their loyalty forever. They'll die for you if they think you'll die for them."

Clint learned more about human nature in those lessons than any other afterward. He could relate the people he knew to some form of wild beast in the process of being tamed. He'd seen that same untamed ferocity in Natasha when he withheld the killing blow. He'd looked into the eyes of a vicious killer and seen those big cats, so many years before. _Show them something new. They'll die for you if they think you'll die for them._

Blind loyalty through thick and thin. He knew Natasha would die for him, as surely as he knew he would die for her. A little kindness created an unbreakable bond, and the kindness part wasn't so hard. It was easy to scrape meat off a boiled bone.

_This is the stupidest idea I've ever had._

Clint adjusted the parcel he carried. He knew how to gain trust, and in a way he already had some measure of it. Loki had spoken quite a bit to his second-in-command. He enjoyed the sound of his own voice, and more he seemed to crave conversation. He'd stayed within view of his followers at all times, always ready for a quick word. He'd discuss their plans, listen to Barton's suggestions, even take feedback and orders. _Tell me what you need_, he'd said. Barton told him, and Loki supplied.

Shouldn't it be the other way around?

Throughout it all, the trickster never once spoke of Asgard or the family he left behind. After seeing the brothers interacting, and hearing that the man was adopted from Thor, Barton was starting to piece together the emotional tangles that might be influencing the god's decisions. Now, with his latest suspicions all but confirmed by Thor, he had to wonder if it was more than emotional pain which bound the younger god's tongue.

They were trying to understand him as they did Thor, or a human. Clint was positive this was a losing battle. There were signs for those who knew what to look for: Loki's oddly timed sense of humor, his willingness to mutilate and make a show of himself, his brutal flare. Loki's mind, if examined, seemed to work a different way than Thor's. His thoughts were a little more alien, or at least a little less human.

Less human, and more like the other thing.

_They're damned aliens after all._

Thor had a romantic connection, which made him more inclined to play by human rules. What did Loki have? His interactions with humans were from centuries ago. More importantly, Thor and Loki were _Viking_ gods, and the Vikings weren't known for settling peacefully with their neighbors. It stood to reason that their gods would be the same.

Loki interacted with humans in the way he thought humans would respond to, in the way his alien mind understood them to be. He'd been a smooth talker and manipulative bastard in the time of poleaxes and plunder. More importantly, he must have displayed an unmistakable connection to animals. Enough that he'd been written as a father to quite a few of them.

Clint really wanted to ask, but he could wait. Right now he needed to focus.

_How do you tame a wild animal? _

The guards at the top seemed perplexed to see him. They made him leave his quiver and bow before going down the steps. He showed them the contents of the cloth parcel he carried, and explained its origins. They nodded and allowed him to keep it. His boots collided heavily with the stone staircase. He wasn't trying to sneak up on anyone. He descended into view, and the moment's satisfaction he felt at the surprise on the trickster's face gave way to a cold sweat when the surprise dwindled away to cold calculation.

_What's the first step?_

"Barton," the trickster rasped. "I have missed you."

_You offer food and back away.  
_

* * *

Steve was exhausted. He'd expected something bad when the entire squad was summoned and restless nights plagued him before the trip. Now that he _knew_ it was something bad, he couldn't sleep a wink.

He was standing out on Thor's balcony, leaning against the railing and idly eavesdropping on the conversation snippets he could catch. Otherwise, he let the chatting inside carry on without him. Bruce and Tony were huddled together discussing God knew what while Natasha and the Warriors Three attempted to distract Thor from the absence of his lady love. Bruce had chosen the album for tonight, and as a result the music was softer, more melancholy and thoughtful.

No one had noticed that the record player only needed one crank tonight.

A warm body pressed against the railing on his right. Her dark hair fell forward as she mimicked his stance, hands clasped in the air on the other side of the railing. She looked up at the same night sky as he did, and he wondered what she might see. Were Æsir eyes able to perceive things the human eye could not?

"You are troubled tonight, friend Rogers."

His jaw clenched. It was odd to have a friend after so long going without. Bucky forever weighed on his mind. The friend who died for following him. He pondered if Thor worried about his friends dying on one of their campaigns led by the crown prince.

_Of course he does. He's a leader too._

"What news do you bring? Is it as terrible as you feared?"

He nodded, unwilling to give the truth the weight of words. She pursed her lips.

"Your friends are subdued. I wondered if that was the cause...but you see now, how it weighs as heavily upon them as it does you? You are not alone in your concerns."

He laughed under his breath and nodded. "You're right. I have a good team."

They stood in silence for a time. Movement on the Bifrost drew his attention, and Sif followed his gaze and nodded. "They work to repair the Bifrost. Their progress is slow. In truth, I do not understand their sciences. They are confident that it will be rebuilt, though."

Steve grinned. "Science isn't my strong point either. We can stare in dumb ignorance together."

She laughed. "A merry way to spend an evening, is it not? In truth, none of our number is a scholar, save..." Her voice trailed away and she pursed her lips again. Her eyes flashed in an odd combination of longing and anger. Steve nudged her gently with one elbow. The darkness slid away from her brow slowly, and she sighed.

"My apologies, friend Rogers. It is just that we were friends before, and now we are enemies."

"How long have you known him?"

"As long as I can remember."

Lifelong friends, split by circumstances. Steve wasn't sure which was better: for that friend to die, or for that friend to live on in a new form, forever lost. The torment was sharp either way. Maybe there wasn't a better choice in such matters.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Sif."

Behind them, Tony let out a raucous bellow of laughter and fussed with the record player. The music cut off suddenly as he switched albums, and Bruce protested behind him.

"I only said I liked the one song -"

"You picked it, Brucey boy. Live with it." Tony cranked the volume on the record player, walked to the entrance to the room and pushed the door open wide. He propped it open with Hogun's mace. "Let all of Asgard get a taste of down home country lovin'!"

Sif looked at Steve, who looked back at her with raised eyebrows. "Perhaps we should rejoin the crowd in a moment."

"Nah," Steve said, and looked back out at the Bifrost and the starry night. "Let'em duke it out."

* * *

"You haven't eaten." Clint spoke in his usual brusque manner, and held up the parcel with a slight nod. Loki's eyes glittered queerly in the dark light, despite the torches lining the cell. Clint wondered how Tony and Jane's mission to electrify Asgard was going. He missed the comfort of overhead lights.

Loki stood at the edge of the circle, his hands behind his back. Tension rustled through the archer. He buried it and stepped closer, almost within range to hand the parcel over. The trickster watched him with a viper's wariness. Clint wasn't certain of the taller man's range with those chains, and he wasn't going to take a stupid chance on a stupider idea.

He felt a drop of sweat trace down his spine as he offered the cloth forward.

"It's some kind of meat-filled thing. I heard you'd like it from someone who'd know."

"And you are so concerned with my diet that you present this to me now?"

"Take it, or I'll eat it myself."

The trickster moved one arm and reached out a slender hand, turning his palm up. Clint felt another bead of sweat roll down his back. He reached high to avoid physical contact and dropped the cloth into Loki's outstretched hand. The trickster smiled.

"You stink of fear."

"'Least I have a reason for it, then."

Loki drew his hand back and opened the cloth to reveal the stuffed meat pastry. He could feel the heat even through the fabric; this was fresh-made. His expression darkened.

"The queen sent you with this, did she not?"

Clint shrugged. It was close enough; he'd gone to the queen and told her his plan, and she'd jumped at the opportunity to try and provide her youngest with some form of sustenance. Clint suspected that the trickster was fighting an internal battle now, between eating or throwing the offering back in the archer's face. He looked up and scowled, his eyes narrowing. Wary, suspicious. Clint raised his hands and backed away.

He wanted to leave, and turned to follow that instinct. Loki drew him up short with a pronouncement.

"And how is the spider, Barton?" Clint turned and watched Loki without replying. "I made a promise to her. Did she tell you?"

Loki's madness had crept into him. The sudden intensity of that stare was fair warning that Clint was officially treading thin ice.

"I am loathe to break a pledge." Loki already stood at the perimeter of his circle, yet his presence loomed closer. Clint felt goose pimples prickle over his arms. He was stronger than his fear. He could hold himself together long enough to avoid Loki's bait.

_How can I hate someone this much?_

Loki was irritated; even the spider bitch reacted with more satisfaction than the archer. Barton's impassive attitude was betrayed by the stench of his sweat - yet the archer's expression remained calm and blank.

Intriguing.

Loki raised the pastry and tilted it in Barton's direction, taking a step back. "You may pass my thanks along to the queen for this meal."

Clint nodded. _Literally the worst idea I've ever had_. But if he was going to follow through, now wasn't the time to try and gather information. He'd offered the food; it was time to back away.

His boots made the same racket going up the stairs, and when the cell door clamped shut behind him he took a moment to let out the long, shaky breath he'd been holding. His armpits felt damp. He'd need to wash up before he joined the rest of the team.

He made his way to his quarters, his bow clasped and an arrow knocked the entire way.

* * *

The Turners were one of the last foster families she'd stayed with growing up, and she remembered them all vividly. Especially Mr. Turner.

He'd driven the kids to school every day. He and his wife had three kids, all girls, and he dropped them off at the elementary and middle school before taking Lynn to the high school. As soon as the younger kids were out of the car, Mr. Turner would turn and flash her a mischievous grin. Then he'd change the Christian radio station to a classic rock channel with a morning show that played music every ten minutes. The morning show was led by a man and his wife, full of skits that lacked the crudity of so many other shows. But the real treat was the music.

Being a radio station, the music was always familiar and often repeated several times a week. Mr. Turner sang along loudly - and not terribly - to most of them, and took the extra effort to teach her the words as well. They'd belt out everything from AC/DC to Boston, and over the weeks she found a few favorites that she looked forward to the most. Harmonies were the best; she'd take one chord, he'd take the other, and they'd harmonize along with the radio.

Her favorite was a honky bluegrass about moonshine. The harmonies at the end of the song were distinctive and clear. She'd take the bass because it worked with her alto voice; he'd take the tenor. And together they'd proclaim their love for moonshine and honky tonk dances.

She still kept in touch with the Turners, and she remembered her two years with them fondly. Mrs. Turner was diagnosed with cancer, and Lynn was moved to a new foster home soon after, but they still sent her a Christmas card every year. Mrs. Turner had been in remission for three years straight now.

_Why am I thinking about the Turners?_ Lynn dragged her thoughts away from reminiscing, afraid that this was a new angle. She could still hear the strains of the fiddles and guitar, still hear the harmonies so clearly in her mind. She saw Mr. Turner's kind face, the girls' signatures on her annual Christmas cards, the day she'd brought home an A- on a math test that Mr. Turner spent three hours the night before helping her study for.

If family was a dream to her, this was the dream she saw.

Lynn gasped and opened her eyes. The fiddles were still playing. Against all odds, she woke to familiar music. She moaned and raised a hand to cover her eyes. Where was the music coming from?

She took a deep breath as she tallied herself. She could feel that her body was enclosed in some form of bandages and she felt less pain than expected. Her lungs were on the mend as well; the breath barely rattled and her throat no longer felt raw from inhaling real flames. She wasn't doing badly, but she was overcome with the certainty that this was all a lie. She swallowed the lump in her throat and thought into the air.

_Will you keep hurting and healing me until I can't remember anything but the pain?_

She expected a voice to rumble inside and tensed in anticipation. Seconds passed into minutes. She took another deep breath and wondered at the delay. The delay, and the music..._Mississippi moon, won't you keep on shinin' on me?_

She was too antsy to remain in this spot, wherever she was. She sat up and waited for a voice, a strike, anything at all. She moved her legs to the side of the bed and touched her bare toes on the cool floor.

Nothing. Was it possible that she?...no. She would never see home again - but the music -

Lynn stared ahead and rested her hands in her lap, unable to grip the side of the bed for the soreness of her healing wrists. She wanted to move from this bed; she hadn't taken unguided steps on her own in weeks. Something was bound to happen; some new torment would start any moment. Unless this _was_ the torment. A moment's reprieve from vengeance before the final blows. A fond memory and the music to taunt her, make her believe that Earth was within reach. Just a few steps away. _By the hand, take me by the hand.._.

The air was warm, like a pleasant Spring day. The music was still going and she could pick out voices which spoke over the notes which drifted into her room. She wanted to see what was happening; she needed to know where the music came from. She stood and began a careful trek - _one, two, three_ - steady, measured steps. She counted to ten and found the wall, not jagged at all. Smooth and cool to the touch. She fought to believe this was real then; the walls should be pointed and sharp.

Lynn spread her fingers out and felt the pleasant air rushing inside of the room. Was there a door at all in this place? It couldn't be real if there was, which meant she suffered a dream. A dream of pleasant weather and familiar music. She wasn't certain whether this would prove to be torment or not, but she appreciated that she was given true respite within her mind.

How did she dream at all? _With you all night long..._

She followed the sound with her hand against the wall - _twenty nine, thirty, thirty one_ - until the noises were too loud to be an accident. She leaned close to the entryway. She could feel the air rushing in and out to her right and braced herself against the wall to listen. Even so close, the music was not loud enough to satisfy her. She leaned forward to let her ear peek around the entry and concentrated on the familiar strains.

It was the ever-observant Natasha who spotted her first, a pair of wild eyes peering around the corner of Thor's doorway. The spy moved to intercept and the eyes did not follow her. She was able to come within reach and moved to touch the Lynn's arm. The girl sensed the movement and shifted, her eyes widening and taking on a panicked strain. The girl spun and fled, skittish as a doe on a frosty winter's morning. Natasha sprinted through the doorway, expecting some version of a chase, and stopped directly outside to watch the girl's movements. Instead of a steady pounding of feet, the girl picked careful steps away as she ran her hand, pointing down, against the wall to feel her path.

"Three," she heard the girl whisper, "four, five -"

"Lynn," Natasha called, "you're safe."

The girl stopped and turned her head to the side, listening. Natasha continued and hoped Lynn believed her.

"My name is Natasha Romanoff. You're in Asgard. Thor's home world."

Lynn's fingers twitched and flexed. Natasha understood how hard this must be, to trust what she was told. The spy understood how the mind would refuse to accept hope when offered so readily.

"We took you from the Chitauri and brought you here for recovery."

Natasha wasn't sure of what else to say. If the girl didn't believe her, they had a real problem on their hands. If she did...Natasha abruptly realized a quick end to any doubts. Everyone had seen the news from New York and the faces of the Avengers; if she could see Natasha's face, she might recognize her and realize this was reality.

Natasha circled her where she leaned against the wall and positioned herself directly in Lynn's path. The woman did not look at her, didn't even seem to realize she'd moved. Natasha crossed her arms and waited for the girl to acknowledge her. Still, nothing.

"Look at me. Do you recognize me?"

Lynn looked up and to the side in the direction of Natasha's voice. Her eyes remained blank and unfocused, as though looking through the spy. Natasha uncrossed her arms and furrowed her brow, then stepped closer. The girl responded then, recognizing the sound of approaching footsteps. She closed her eyes and ducked her head.

"Lynn," the spy said, "can you see me?"

As she asked Steve emerged from the Thor's room to find out what was keeping the spy away. He froze when he saw the scene, glancing at Natasha for a silent assessment of the situation. She nodded slightly. Steve stepped closer to stand near Natasha and watched the girl for any signs of distress. Hard to narrow it down when there were so many.

"Miss Creed, my name is Steve Rogers. Do you need anything?"

Lynn turned her head in the direction of this latest voice. She turned to press her back against the wall, exhausted from her trek, and raised a hand to press against her face. Could she speak to them? If she spoke, would the illusion go away? If that were the game, delaying it only delayed the inevitable. She shuddered and spoke, and braced herself for the worst.

"I -" Tension stole the remaining words, and she shivered and pressed one hand over her eyes.

The Captain sprang into action. He stepped forward and gently took Lynn's arm, a gesture which left her tense until he murmured, again and again, that she would not be harmed. He asked Natasha to bring a plate of food and began to escort Lynn back to the her room.

"We'll bring you food and water. You're being watched over by all of us. Did Natasha tell you who we are?"

Lynn shook her head, mute with shock. This was real? _Real_? The Captain introduced himself more formally as they walked, and told her of the others here. The Avengers. _The_ Avengers, the same ones from the news reports. Tony Stark, Bruce Banner - all of them. Why were they here? And how had they found her?

Steve led her back to the bed and tucked her in, unable to stand the sight of a distressed woman. He sat next to her bed and worried over her while they waited for Natasha's arrival. Naturally, someone else arrived first.

"I hear the living dead girl's awake," Tony said as his confident strides carried him into the room and next to Steve. The Captain grimaced.

"Can't you leave the nicknames off, just once - "

"Ah, she's fine. Aren't ya sweetheart?"

Lynn said nothing, staring down at her lap where her hands rested. Tony shrugged and grabbed the closest chair to sit next to Steve. They watched their ward together while Tony chattered at the girl, trying to elicit any response at all.

"Don't feel rushed, now. There's no press conference waiting on you. You can stay here as long as you need, and Sparky will watch over you."

That got something. She tilted her eyes to the side, in the direction of Tony's voice, and asked: "Sparky?"

"Thor!" Tony felt validated by the response. "Lightning, hammer, flowing red cape? He's a sucker for a damsel in distress."

Steve squared his jaw. "Tony, that's enough."

"She's awake?" The third new voice, another man. Bruce strolled into the room and looked from Steve to Tony. He settled on Tony and poked his thumb backward.

"Out of the chair."

"Why, you want front row seats?"

"I need to look her over."

"Alright. Fine." Tony backed off and Dr. Banner took his rightful place at the patient's side.

"Lynn, this is Dr. Bruce Banner. I need to check your arms and legs, ok?"

That glassy stare never wavered. Bruce felt a sudden tightness in his chest, and snapped his fingers once. Lynn raised her head and pointed it in the direction of the noise. He'd moved his hand to the other side. Moved his fingers back and forth, back and forth, and finally lowered his hand.

"You can't see, can you?"

Her face tightened and she dropped her head again. Her loose hair fell forward; she said nothing.

"It's alright, Lynn. We want to help you. There might be a way, on Asgard - but you have to be honest. You have to tell me. Can you see at all?"

The three men watched her in silence, waiting for the reply. Even Tony kept himself quiet at the severity of this potential revelation. And then:

"No," she said, and her effort to control her voice made the one-syllable word crack in the middle. "I can't see anything."

* * *

Natasha had missed something. On her route to find food, she gathered Thor and a newly washed Clint as well so that the full team was together for the moment. When the three remaining Avengers joined the group, Steve and Tony both shot her a stunned look. Bruce stayed facing Lynn, who allowed him to open her eyelids and examine her pupils.

It was Thor's demand which broke the standoff.

"What troubles you, friends? Has she resumed her unresponsive torpor?"

The woman jerked at that, and looked up again toward the source of the voice. She said nothing; Bruce answered for her.

"She's blind, Thor. There's no damage I can see, but her pupils aren't responding at all."

The thunder god now stood as stunned as Tony and Steve, and Clint was the one who asked the pressing question.

"Is it permanent?"

Bruce sighed and leaned away from Lynn. He responded to Clint's question by addressing the girl directly. "I'm not sure. There's no damage to the eyes I can see, they're just...not responding." He leaned closer to her. "Do you remember anything that would cause this, Lynn? Anything at all?"

The woman's fingers twitched; she took a deep breath. When she spoke, it was quieter than before. Despite being unable to see the stares directed at her, she _felt_ them, and it unnerved her.

"No."

_Yes_. She remembered. The monster pressed his hand over her eyes...

"Yes," she amended. The room was filled with voices who all discussed her situation and their options. The conversation paused, and then the closest voice, the doctor, replied.

"Lynn, did you say something?"

"Yes. I remember." How could it hurt her for them to know? There was nothing they could do to fix it, and it was the truth besides.

Her throat hurt.

"He made it so I couldn't see."

"Who defiled you thus?"

The formal speech and deep voice threw her for a moment, and she stuttered. "Ah...um. Th-the one who...who took me."

The voice sounded triumphant now. "My brother might temper this wound, as it sounds to be no wound at all, but a spell, merely an enchantment."

"Oh for- the magic dragon is puffed out, bruiser." Tony shook his head and raised his wrists. "Remember? Cuffs? He can't do any abracadabra with those on."

That gave the thunder god pause, until he came upon a simple conclusion and smiled at Lynn, though she could not see it.

"I will speak with the queen, and discuss this latest epiphany. Lady Creed, do not despair at the loss of your vision. My brother will surely return your sight, if given chance."

Now it was Steve's turn. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea." The thunder god rounded on him and waited for an explanation. Steve didn't hesitate. "Loki's a prisoner for a good reason. He's dangerous. He could hurt her, or us, if those chains come off."

"And if it were your vision in the balance?"

The crackly voice that broke the silence this time was barely a whisper. Bruce leaned forward to hear Lynn speaking. She waited, then repeated herself in case they hadn't heard. Oh, how her throat hurt.

"Not if it's dangerous. I don't want anyone hurt."

To see a torture victim, blinded and covered in bandages, refuse to let someone else get hurt for her sake, struck all of them. Tony looked at Steve with new resolution.

"Alright, let's give it a shot. Here there be dragons anyway. If he tries the whammy, there's a whole planet of hims to fight back."

"Wait a minute." Natasha glared at Tony and Thor both, then spoke to Steve. "What did we just decide?"

"To let Thor speak with his mother about the situation. If - "

"Loki's a psychopath." Natasha looked around the room, quiet yet intense. "Remember New York? Selvig? Clint? He's nothing but dangerous -"

"Natasha, I understand why you -"

"He's a rabid dog. You can't tell me we're gonna trust him."

It was this moment that Natasha chose to set the tray of food she held down on the side table, hard. The clank rattled all of them. Lynn spoke first.

"You don't need to -"

"Save it, Creed. We're helping you. Cope." Tony would've winked if she could see the gesture. Thor waited a moment after to let all of them digest that statement, then nodded.

"I will have audience with the queen. Wait if you wish; I shan't be delayed long hence."

The thunder god left and Tony snorted.

"Delayed long _hence_. Cripes."

"Lynn," Dr. Banner said, "I'll check your bandages now."

* * *

The deep Asgardian night lent itself to Thor's cause. His parents were not in court, nor hosting a series of envoys from allies of the Nine Realms. They were within their quarters preparing for the night, and as such he was able to approach them as both crown prince and son. For though he was speaking of a prisoner, he was also speaking of his brother, and he felt more at ease discussing the matter with his parents than he would with Asgard's king and queen.

He knocked upon their door and was granted entrance from within. When he entered, his mother was sat at her mirrored stand, removing the various pins and combs from her hair. The elaborate formation slowly unravelled as her deft fingers plucked the small metallic objects free. Her hair lengthened steadily as more weight was allowed to drop. She looked at him in the mirror and smiled.

"Good evening, Thor."

Odin stepped forth from the attached chambers, his armor missing in place of his regal white garments. The All-Father gathered his son's countenance in, and looked at Frigga before addressing him.

"What troubles you, my son?"

Thor gathered a deep breath.

"Mother, All-Father, I request your aid in enlisting assistance from my brother."

"In what matter?"

Thor had thought long and hard of how to phrase this request so as to communicate the urgency. In his way, he chose the path he always would: simple honesty.

"Lynn Creed has been cursed with lack of sight by those who tormented her these many weeks past. A magical enchantment must be lifted to restore her seeing."

The monarchs looked to each other. Frigga raised one eyebrow, and Odin nodded to her. She stood from her boutique and approached him. He kept himself straight and tall to meet her on equal footing. This was a matter in which he felt confident in his request.

"Do you feel that Loki will provide assistance in this matter, should it be requested?"

"I do." Another deep breath. "The curse was laid by those I believe he fears. I will present this challenge to him, to encourage his cooperation -"

"You would appeal to his pride?"

Odin couldn't stop a quiet laugh. "A worthy path, for if ever there is a trait neither son lacks, it is pride my dear."

"Inherited, no doubt, from a prideful father."

"To say nothing of their mother."

Frigga's hand danced to press against her bosom, and she smiled a sweet smile as her eyes lit with teasing. "See how my husband purgers me, Thor? It is most grievous."

"Would that I had inherited some of this mischief as well," Thor said. "Then Loki would not be filled to the brim with it."

The king and queen looked to each other for a drawn-out moment. Odin turned his back and walked to the open window to stare out into the starry night. Thor watched him until his mother approached, and turned instead to face her with some confusion.

"Your request is granted," Frigga said. "We will provide assistance as needed, if Loki's magic need be unbound to complete this task."

Her hand raised to clasp his cheek, and sadness seemed to leak from her touch through his skin, until he felt the ominous presence of their combined sorrow weighing him down. "But our youngest has learned much these past few days, and trusts neither parent now. It must be you, Thor Odinson, who convinces Loki to grant the assistance you seek."


	14. Caution

_The court deemed me to be offensive_  
_I'm an ominous man_

* * *

Bafflement was not unheard of within the trickster's life, although it was a rare enough emotion that he could not name it offhand.

He had set the cloth with its tainted offering upon his pedestal and was watching it warily. One arm was crooked and the other rested its elbow against the wrist, the forearm facing upward so that Loki could rest his chin against the topmost knuckle.

Loki thought over his decision to take the hawk away from his safe nest. Nothing like the spider, no - the hawk was blunt and open. Conniving and cruel when needed, direct and unmitigated by emotional swells. He was easy to converse with as he lacked the verbal tricks of so many of his fellow species, and Loki held no desire to riddle out his second's intended meanings.

The decision proved a mighty boon. Barton had shown himself more than capable without constant guidance, able to weave efficient plans which wasted little time. He contacted enemies of SHIELD and assembled a full force within less than twelve hours, along with locating the quarters to house them underground. He nullified targets with finesse. He'd disabled the flying fortress with two of his specialized arrows. And then he'd been lost to Loki's influence - or rather, the Tesseract had lost its slave.

Loki regretted that he'd left Barton behind that day instead of retrieving him. Considering the man's usefulness and the ultimate outcome of his ability to fight with the humans - the trickster rubbed his forehead where the cut had long healed - it was not impossible that his influence alone might have turned the tide of war away from the Avengers.

He understood Barton and knew the man never forgave a slight. Barton expressed facts and acted upon them. Dry and gruff, never one to dally. He'd commented on Loki's lack of eating, and provided the solution forthwith despite raging fear. He would hold a grudge over Loki's actions in those days until his dying breath, and the trickster could not fault him for his loathing. And yet there the parcel sat, its contents steaming slightly in the cool air of the cell.

Was it possible that some small link remained between the man and the Tesseract? It would explain the odd behavior toward the source of his nightmares. It could be an attempt to garner favor, if not - but for what? Loki saw no purpose in this action without the Tesseract's influence.

The smell permeated the air and even the trickster had to admit that the hawk might have gotten the best of him. It was true that he hadn't eaten in long enough that he wasn't certain he remembered the taste of food. He'd grown so used to the hunger pangs that they became a dulled background noise, ignored save for the very occasional moments of dizziness before his magic filled in the gaps left by natural nutrients.

That the archer might have simply realized he never ate a bite and acted upon this knowledge was too impossible to conceive.

The parcel still sat, and though Loki knew there was far more to this simple action than the kindness of a provided meal, he also knew the source of this food would never poison a meal intended for her youngest.

_Why did you save this?..._

Although the archer might have poisoned it afterward, in which case he would face Frigga's wrath should she discover such a deceit. Imagining the archer on the receiving end of Frigga's rage made the trickster smile. What a sight that would be! Perhaps in the interest of an eye for an eye, she would give him the archer to determine the sentence to be bestowed.

He'd made a pledge, and he did hate to break pledges made to an enemy.

Loki took up the pastry and tore the corner free. The aroma intensified, released into the air, and he took a great drought of the scent and sighed in satisfied longing. He would _not_ eat it, no - there was more to this, there must be - and yet to smell the food so close to his lips, to know that he only need tilt his head and move his hand a slight distance...

_What is this weakness, Asgardian?_ The beast was displeased with his pupil, and Loki disappointed in himself. He'd taken to walking great distances when the hunger pangs acted up, until the ache in his legs distracted him from the pain gnawing forever in his gut. The beast provided no food because there was no food present in this barren rock wasteland. Loki landed here with nothing on his person save what he could conjure from his personal effects. Food was never an option, therefore he put it from his mind.

But his body could not forget. And now he'd had a moment of weakness before Thanos, who had never seen the trickster sway in between steps. The dizziness subsided.

"It is nothing," he said. His tone was bored and unaffected. "It has already passed."

_It is hunger,_ the beast said, and Loki's mouth tightened to be interpreted so abruptly. _Does your body long for something to fill its belly?_

"It has passed," he repeated. The beast chuckled and shook his head. Loki repressed a shiver; that chuckle was filled with a thousand whispering insanities, and they scraped along the trickster's skin and bore into his flesh. Only his helmet preserved his mind from total delusion. "It is a weakness I am glad to ignore."

_Hunger is no weakness._ Loki raised his eyebrows. _That you allow your body to respond to it - that is weakness. _

Now Loki was annoyed. "I do not always have a choice."

_There is always a choice. Let me show you._ Thanos reached forth and plunged his hand into the solid rock beneath them. He curled his fingers and drew forth a small mountain of newly-crushed pebbles, and offered these to Loki. _I felt hunger once. It is a living thing within you, and can drive your actions without your consent. I conquered this impulse, as I conquered all others, that my body would know who is the master and who is the slave._

Loki held out one hand and Thanos poured the pebbles into his cupped palm. Many cascaded over the sides. Loki thought of a waterfall, pure and clear, and realized his thirst was far worse than his hunger.

_Hunger can drive one to desperation, and desperation leads to illogic. Have you seen a starving child take a stone from the ground to suckle upon it? _

Loki tilted his hand to let the pebbles fall. He would not lower himself to such actions, and the temptation to try was too great when the idea was present so fresh in his mind. Thanos nodded approval, as though this in itself were a test.

_Your body is formidable, Asgardian. You will learn its limits and push it further. Let nothing rule your actions save yourself. _

Loki narrowed his eyes as he sensed a deception. There was deeper purpose to these tests. The beast wanted to know how much his form could take before giving out, and the trickster wondered if his intention was to gather weaknesses to use against Asgard in a future attack. Even after his deposal, he remembered his oath to protect the Nine Realms from harm and would not allow himself to become a pawn in the disposal of Asgard. Thanos made no secret of his hatred of the golden realm's ruler.

"You will not use me as a means to strike Asgard." Loki intended to quash any thought of such endeavors. "I will not allow it."

Thanos' mad chuckle again rumbled in the quiet air.

_You would defend those who betrayed you. Touching, perhaps. But you forget yourself, Asgardian. You are not Æsir. I learn nothing of them __from studying your limits._

Loki remained silent.

_No, I have higher purpose for you. _And the madness overflowed then, the Titan's reason lost in the adoration of something worse than the void. _There will be death, such death, and you, you with your __Jötun fortitude - you__ would persist to stand alone after, and behold such wonders wrought in her name, wonders I offer my beloved, that she -_

_-that she-_

Loki came to himself at the sound of steady clomping descending his stairwell. There was only one pair of feet which could cause such a racket, and he snarled to be torn so abruptly from his thoughts - though in truth he was relieved to be freed of them for the moment. The parcel was gone, and with it the pastry, vanished into concealment.

And he stood and waited, backed away from his perimeter, as Thor descended into sight.

* * *

Bruce gently held one of Lynn's arms in his hand and pressed his fingers against the palm of her hand, bending it back very slightly. She flinched and gasped at the slight pressure. He checked the second wrist in the same manner, trying a few different angles to see which was worse. As far as he could tell, they all ached in equal measure.

He set her second arm down and took his glasses off to clean them. "They're healed, but you need some kind of physical therapy to avoid permanent damage."

She said nothing in reply. Her dark eyes stared ahead, and Bruce worried that she might be sinking down into herself again. He waved Tony over to try and help him engage the girl; if anyone could talk her back awake, it was Tony Stark.

"Hey, kid," the inventor said as he took a seat next to the bed. Ever one to respect personal boundaries, Tony reached forth and prodded Lynn's shoulder. This got a sharp twitching gasp from her and an angry scowl from Bruce.

"Tony, don't do-"

"The file said you're minoring in music. You play anything?"

Bruce's eyebrows shot up and he looked with interest at the girl. Her fingers twitched and she turned her head as though gazing out the sunny window. Perhaps she could feel the warmth of the light streaming into the room from that direction. Clint was perched on the sill with his arms crossed, looking out at the Asgardian day. Steve and Natasha hovered toward the front of the room and kept their attention half outside, watching for Thor's return.

"A little," Lynn admitted quietly. Tony snapped his fingers and slammed a fist into his palm.

"That's it then! Whaddaya play kid?"

Her fingers twitched. Tony opened his mouth to pester her again; Bruce grabbed his shoulder and shook his head. _Wait_, he mouthed. _Give her a second._ Tony scowled. He hated to wait. He fiddled with his hands, his shirt, his pants. He ran his hand through his hair twice. When he couldn't stand it anymore, he inhaled to speak again -

"Piano. Guitar." She hesitated, then admitted: "Some banjo."

"Great! Two out of three." Tony burst into noise again, relieved that the wait was over. "We'll get you fixed up in no time, kid."

Lynn creased her brow while Bruce raised his eyebrows and spoke. "You brought a banjo?"

"I suggested it. What's wrong with the banjo?" Steve was suddenly addressing them all, his face troubled. "It's a traditional American -"

"Aw geez, he's gonna wave his flag again isn't he?" Clint rolled his eyes at Natasha, who grinned back. Steve clenched his jaw and tried not to pout. Tony approached him and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Nothing's wrong with it, which is why I _brought_ it. Plonker."

Steve was certain he'd just been insulted, but he didn't recognize the word and now wasn't the time to bicker. He jerked his chin at Lynn. "What does it matter?"

"It _matters_ because it's a good way to work her wrists." Tony raised his hands and plucked at an air guitar. "Exercising the digits."

"Otherwise," Bruce finished, "she could end up with carpal tunnel in both."

Clint had turned back to the window, arms crossed. He looked casual. When he started speaking, Natasha snapped to narrow-eyed attention. "Lynn's right here guys. You don't need to talk around her."

Tony shoved Steve toward the girl. "Apologize to her for me, would you? You're better at it."

"Tony, it's really not the same if - ah, sorry ma'am, we didn't mean -"

She perked up at his formal term. "Are you from the South?"

"Uh, no ma'am. New York."

"Long Island," Tony added.

"Ohio," Bruce said, to keep up the introductions.

"Russia." Natasha took Banner's delocalized state of origin and trumped it with an even larger country of origin.

"Um," was all Clint said. Truth be told, he hadn't thought of Iowa in years. He hardly considered it home. He was Clint Barton of SHIELD, and that was good enough for him.

"Oh." Lynn seemed disappointed, but she didn't break the tempo. "Born and raised in Atlanta. Sorry for the accent."

Natasha laughed. "You should've heard mine when I first moved here."

"And Thor's accent is _much_ funnier than yours." Tony thought a moment. "And inexplicable. Why do space Vikings even have an Earth accent anyway?"

"To bug you, obviously."

"Funny, Barton."

"Lynn, do you know any songs?" Steve took Tony's former seat at the bedside and smiled at her, forgetting for the moment that his reassuring smile was wasted. "Do you sing?"

"A little," she hedged, and that was true. She sang in the same sense that a person singing along with the radio sang: passably and with no intention of sharing their singing voice with the public.

"Maybe you could play us a song."

It would be easier to decline if these weren't the same people who'd saved her life - and the Earth months before. "I - ok..."

Clint shoved himself off the windowsill and walked to the door, running one hand across the lower portion of his face as he moved. He paused when he reached Natasha and nodded at her.

"Let me know when he gets here."

Natasha watched him leave, then looked at Steve, who nodded. She waited one minute before turning on her heel and following behind Clint.

* * *

Thor could not guess his mother's intentions in sending him on this errand. That Loki would fight the request was assured. That he would fight to his last breath should Thor be the one who requested it even more certain. Still, the thunder god gave his best effort, and resorted to the tool he never lacked an abundance of: conviction.

"Brother, you will offer yourself for this cause."

"Will I?"

"Yes. Lynn Creed is enchanted; magics prevent her eyes from seeing."

Blind? That explained her unsettling gazes. He chuckled to himself.

"You presume I am bothered by this mortal woman's plight?"

Thor met his brother's glare. Doubt could not cloud the mind of someone who knew his course was fair.

"No. I presume you would attend, if given the chance to prove your magic greater than that of those you fear."

Loki laughed, a sound full of dispassion despite his amusement. "And this is your greatest concern, Odinson? That I prove my worthiness against a foe you have yet to see?''

''You know it is not.'' The thunder god's stare pierced Loki where he stood, to prevent his younger brother from turning away.

''I will not have the remainder of Lynn Creed's living years flavored by the torments she has suffered in your stead.''

''How touching, Odinson. Your compassion knows no bounds.''

Thor reacted then, stepping forward to close the distance between them. Loki stood his ground and waited for the famous temper to reveal itself. Thor only looked sad, an emotion less predictable from a god known for his quick rage.

''Yes, brother.'' Thor reached to grip Loki behind the head, an unwelcome gesture of comfort. ''As my compassion fights for your well-being, so it fights for hers. Would that you would tell me what ails you, that I may assist in any way to liberate you from your pain.''

"The burden is but bearing your _brotherly_ affections." Thor dropped his hand and backed away at that; there was little more to say. And so in the next moment, he found himself startled by Loki's continued speech. "Though you forget, again, my limitations. I could not aid her in any way with my magic bound."

"But you would, if allowed?"

The trickster watched Thor and the thunder god fought the impulse to squirm under that intense stare. Loki was observant and had often pierced Thor with such looks in their many years together, only to pull forth from the thunder god whatever unspoken thoughts troubled him. Though he did not relish the observance, his heart ached for the familiarity.

_The burden is but bearing your brotherly affections._ The thought swelled to plague him.

Finally, Loki spoke. "I will." And if the trickster had reason beyond proving himself superior to the Other's might, he kept his own counsel.

* * *

Clint hadn't gone far. Since Thor was talking to his parents, the archer needed to rummage from another source. He'd walked across the way to Thor's quarters, left open for the Avengers to come and go as needed, and was looking over the trough of food which the servants of the palace kept well-stocked for their use. Sif and Fandral were playing a game of Viking Chess in the background. The occasional _tap_ of their game pieces was the only sound.

"Clint."

_Damn_. He picked up a cloth napkin and gripped the edges, turning it into a makeshift pouch for his purposes.

"What are you up to?"

Natasha strolled casually into view and raised her eyebrows at the pouch he'd created.

"Who's that for?"

"What does it matter?"

Clint couldn't keep the tension from his voice, not around her, and he didn't want anyone knowing his plans. Of course, Natasha was an excellent interrogator and he knew all of her tricks, which meant she'd go for the direct route with him. She wouldn't let go until she knew the truth. He tried to take advantage of the fact that Sif and Fandral were present and effectively eavesdropping. He glanced back at them and raised his eyebrows, a clear sign of his unwillingness to speak in clear language. Natasha didn't budge. Instead, she took the extra second's worth of effort to speak in riddles he could understand.

"If there's a compromise -"

"No. I'm not." He knew what she was getting at and didn't want her thinking he was still under anyone's bidding. She pursed her lips and waited.

"Natasha..."

She waited. He gave in.

"I think he was sent, which means there's something bigger and badder that we need information on."

"So an interrogation?" He nodded in reply. She said nothing. Clint grimaced and cursed to himself. She knew there was more, and she would wait until he spilled every bean in the jar. Maybe if he told most of it, she'd accept that as enough. It was Natasha, after all. He knew he could trust her.

He turned so that his back was flush to the dueling Æsir and pointed a thumb behind him. "How old are they, Nat?"

She glanced their way and shrugged. "They're in myths, so however old those are at least."

"Right. And...we're dealing with a high-level. One who they won't..." He gestured with his hands in front of him to conceal his movements from Sif and Fandral. He twisted one fist into the other palm in a wrenching motion. _Execute_, the gesture said. Natasha raised her eyebrows.

"So one hundred years from now, where's the Earth, Nat?"

She creased her brow and parted her lips as the realization struck her all at once. _How old are they, Nat?_ Old enough to be part of ancient Earth history - and still young. If the royal family wouldn't execute one of their own - and it was clear they wouldn't, since Loki still lived - that meant that Earth was still in danger. Not immediately, perhaps not in any of their lifetimes. No, instead their children's children, or even further down the line - their great grandchildren's children, even the children of _those_...

"Right," Clint said to snap her out of her dark thoughts. "You see? We need to make nice. We don't have a choice. If we don't...it'll come up again later. Much later, when we're not around."

None of them had thought of it. Or hadn't mentioned it if they had. Not Tony, not Banner, no one at SHIELD. Would the Avengers Initiative be prepared in one hundred years? In one thousand? There was no method of human preparation that could confront the threat of Loki's future assaults save two. One was execution; that was preferable. It also wouldn't happen if Thor had anything to say in the matter, and his parents didn't seem any more open to the idea. Loki was a prince of this realm, and like any high level political prisoner was afforded a level of mercy not seen for the lower ranks.

Which left reconciliation. Future threats would be nullified by removing the compunction to attack Earth at all. How far did Clint intend to take this? Would he work to try and make Loki an ally? She couldn't say it was impossible. She was living proof that the archer was capable. But Natasha was human, and short-lived in comparison.

"Clint, when you live for a shorter time you find more to live for." _I am not a good model for this plan._

"I gotta try." No need to translate that statement. He met her eyes and she shook her head. It was his first mistake in this dance; she could see there was something else, something deeper that Clint wanted concealed.

She waited to see if he'd give, and then tried a volley.

"And there was a promise."

Clint flinched. How could she always guess his thoughts so easily? At least she was the only one who could.

"And there was a promise," he confirmed. "One I don't want kept."

Natasha grasped his shoulder. "It won't happen again, Clint. Not ever."

"Will you help?" She tugged her hand away as though burned. "I could use it."

She would be present if she accepted the offer, and better able to watch Clint closely to make sure he wasn't displaying any worrying signs of mind control. She nodded and he looked relieved. She'd deal with her nerves later.

"Thanks."

"Keep your distance, Clint." _You see better from a distance._

"I will, Nat." A sudden knock interrupted their cryptic conversation. They both turned to see Steve at the doorway. He smiled at Sif and Fandral, then gestured to Natasha and Clint to come along. The assassins looked at each other before turning and following the captain. Sif and Fandral watched them leave. They looked across the board at each other.

"I say, Sif, mortals have a strange way of conversing."

The clanking of armored footsteps in the hallway drew both Æsir to their feet in order to follow the noise and discover what might be going on.

* * *

The Avengers were within the room, Tony in his armor sans helmet, along with Fandral, Sif and the Asgardian guards in charge of Loki's prison observation. Among the group there was not one who would hesitate to attack the trickster if he made an attempt at escape. Loki laughed to see them. "All of this for me? Fandral alone has enough Jötun blood on his hands to best but one."

"There is not a one among them who has not personally experienced your scheming, brother."

"Ah," and here Loki sounded surprised, as though he had not realized the extent of his crimes. "There is that."

Banner stood closest to the bed, directly next to where Loki would have to approach from.

"How's he gonna fix her with his hands chained?'' As usual, Tony asked the question the rest of them kept quiet.

''I can feel the enchantments well enough. There is little need to unbind me until I have discerned the cause of her affliction, and whether I will fix it.''

Not whether he _could_, but whether he _would_. The difference was lost on none of them. The trickster approached the bed where the mortal woman sat. She turned her head when she heard his footsteps and he narrowed his eyes as though anticipating further action from her. If she revealed his earlier visit to the assembled, there was no amount of magic which would save him from the wrath which befell him.

"Your vision is impeded."

This was a voice she recognized. Lynn couldn't say if she were relieved or troubled. She furrowed her brow in his direction. "Can you fix it?"

When Loki moved his hands more than one weapon was readied for confrontation. The chains clinked in the tense silence, and he paused before touching her.

"May I?"

She couldn't see, but she remembered. She took a shuddering breath and nodded. The trickster only pressed his palms on either side of Lynn's head. She tensed and pressed her lips in a tight line.

"I do not know if I can fix your sight," he admitted. "But I will attempt."

He knew she wanted to ask why, as badly if not more so than the team around him, and he admitted himself impressed when she did not. That she accepted her fate without question unnerved him in a way no other human action had. The metalsmith's boasting, Director Fury's implacability, the Captain's creeds - all under duress or the inevitability of conflict. Perhaps the human condition only revealed itself when pinned against the wall. Another trait to file away for later digestion.

"Does it hurt?" Behind him the archer addressed her directly, as though Loki were not present. The trickster focused on his task.

"No," Lynn replied, "it's just dark." Her words were harried and her breathing up-tempo; the contact was making her nervous, but they did not know what Loki was actually _doing_ to her. Bruce stepped forward to make sure the god remembered his presence. Still, the trickster ignored them. Time passed, and passed, and all of them were antsy now. How long could it take to determine what was wrong? Tony opened his mouth to interrupt - again - when Loki settled back and narrowed his eyes. His discontent radiated from him.

"It is powerful, this spell. To remove it I will need my hands unbound."

"Try again," Tony snapped. Steve looked at him and shook his head, which made the metalsmith carry on. "You're gonna have to spin something better than that."

Loki's annoyance evaporated in a wave of amusement, and he appeared as innocent as a child, wide eyes and slight smile to his face. "You suggest I lie?"

"You're the god of lies! Can you even turn it _off_?"

"Enough, Tony." Steve tilted his chin at Thor. "What can we do?" The thunder god seemed distressed and uneasy, while his younger brother sat with that same innocent expression.

"I will speak with the All-Father and the queen. They shall decide our course of action."

"What, they get to say whether Lynn can see again?" Banner stood shocked and troubled. Would the Æsir king and queen see any value in the decision to release Loki's binds, if the intention was only to restore one human's sight?

"It is necessary. If there is a method to release her shackles while retaining Loki's, they will know it."

The doctor, as arbiter of Lynn's health, was not assured. "But can't we -"

"Bruce, it's Loki. We can't just remove the cuffs." Steve sounded more confident. This, at least, was something he was certain of.

"I get that - but -"

"Thor, go speak with your parents and let us know what they say. Loki stays here until we hear from you."

Thor went, leaving the trickster to handle the assorted levels of trust around him. None of them trusted him outright, which he couldn't fault them for, but the vein ran deeper in some. The remaining Æsir watched warily from afar. The doctor beast's standpoint was clear, and the Captain waited for the decision to be made for him. A luxury he rarely afforded himself, the trickster thought. The metalsmith was already listing a tirade of reasons why this was a terrible idea, and was speaking to his Æsir audience with gusto.

He was uneasy to admit that he could neither guess the archer's nor the assassin's thoughts on the matter. Her emotions were stored outside of her face. The trickster had misjudged her once and was not keen to repeat the experience. Looking at her, it seemed as though they'd sent Thor to fetch a pail of water rather than determine whether the powerful enemy sitting at Lynn's bedside be allowed a chance to escape. As for the archer...he was a mystery to be unraveled at a later time.

Lynn also remained quiet. If she had an opinion on the decision in regards to her own sight, she kept it to herself. How odd, the trickster thought, that the majority of the men should be openly emotional about this decision, while the women stayed stoic.

Within the hour, Thor returned with both his mother and father in tow. The All-Father wielded Gungnir and Frigga nothing. Her weapons were of a more subtle craft, the same her younger son practiced though with greater care and gentleness.

Loki scowled to see them. If it were just the All-Father he might have laughed. With Frigga as well -

"You will grant assistance to this mortal, Loki." Odin's pronouncement rang through the healing room. Thor hung back as though restrained by an invisible force; it was Frigga who stepped forward and extended her hands.

"My son," Frigga began, and Loki's lack of outburst rang as clearly as Odin's pronouncement, "lend me your hands. I will grant you this respite, only for this moment, to do what needs to be done and heal the woman Lynn Creed's eyes."

Steve was the first to realize what was happening here. The king and queen were in their fineries, as was Thor, and the Æsir had straightened to command rest: this was an official ceremony. The Captain straightened himself to attention and the other Avengers, in their own ways, followed suit. If Loki, Odin or Frigga noticed the respect now charging the atmosphere, they paid it no mind. Thor scanned his friends and nodded his gratitude, and Steve nodded in return.

Frigga kept her hands out and waited. Loki was watching her, just her, with a critical glare. He extended his hands in another moment and set his bound wrists into her palms. She smiled a calming, gentle smile and brought his hands to her lips, a move which forced the younger god to stand. He towered over his false mother as she murmured over his hands, lips close enough to touch the skin. Both Thor and Loki were reminded, then, of hundreds of similar moments when their mother kissed away a bruise or blemish from their skin. She treated Loki's manacles with the same reverence now, and the trickster kept himself still.

Frigga released his hands a moment later. "There, Loki. You are free of your bonds." The manacles stayed on his wrists but a new sensation filled the air, one which caused the Avengers to ready their weapons once more. Loki was granted temporary access to his powers, and the access might be long enough for him to cause more heartache.

"As ever I was, Lady Queen." The trickster bowed his respect and returned to Lynn's bedside to attempt, once more, to restore her vision. Frigga stayed close behind him, and the Avengers stood down after a look from the Captain. Whatever the reasons, Loki was docile for the time being. Tony set JARVIS to recording the god's changed demeanor for later study. As weaknesses went, this was an invaluable lesson. The billionaire couldn't help a jab.

"Well guys, next time he acts up just get Mommy on the case."

It was the trickster's dark look in his direction that compelled Tony onward.

''Just look at him, docile as a sweet lamb.''

''Tony,'' Steve began.

''Ah, he'll be fine. Got his mojo back.''

None of them saw the movement. In one instant, Loki was moved from Lynn's bedside to behind Tony.

''Yes,'' he rasped. Any more was drowned in a cacophony of panic coupled with Loki's laughter and Thor's roaring.

''Brother! Cease this treachery!''

Loki laughed again and took a careful step back, tilting his head in the direction he moved. An arrow, gun, shield and blaster lowered as he raised his hands in mock surrender.

''Deepest apologies.''

If his tone were truthful, he had no apologies, much less deep ones. Frigga watched him with the closest care, and raised a brow when he looked in her direction. The trickster did not stop smiling though he moved back to Lynn's side. The woman was gripping the bed-sheet underneath her legs with both hands. Her eyes were squeezed shut and she gasped for breath. Loki scowled.

''What is it?'' He dearly wished to add an insult to the statement and refrained due to his numerous guards. Lynn continued gripping the sheet. Bruce spoke to her.

''Lynn, everything ok?''

She appeared frozen in place, the only movement her ragged breathing. The Avengers exchanged helpless looks and Loki was at a loss for what to do. Frigga stepped in close and hummed a quiet tune, trailing her hand through Lynn's hair in a soothing motion. The lullaby wove around them all and calmed frazzled nerves. Lynn's breathing evened out under that soothing voice. She couldn't say she recognized the voice directly, but instincts assured her that this was a voice to be trusted, a person who brought comfort and peace. Lynn's grip on the sheets eased and her breathing quieted.

''Work quickly,'' Frigga said to Loki as she drew her hand away. ''You have scant time remaining.''

The trickster pressed the tips of one hand to Lynn's forehead and held them there, leaning into the gesture. The air around his fingers shimmered and swayed as though heat radiated. He twisted then, his fingers curling around as though gripping a rope, and pulled backwards. A long trail of black-tinged mist was dragged forth, and the trickster continuously twisted his hand as though wrapping a long twine around it. The last trailing mist exited, and the trickster flipped his hand into the air to sling the magic from his fingers. It careened forward toward Banner, who yelped and raised his hands to ward off the spell; the moment the mist touched flesh it dissipated without effect.

Loki smiled. Around him, yet again, a multitude of weapons lowered. The god of mischief sat back in his chair, putting distance between himself and the human. Now that the attention was again directed at her, an issue was spotted.

"What did you do, Loki?" The Captain stepped forward, fists balled and spine pole-straight. The rest took their cues from his actions and tensed in anticipation of a fight, save for Dr. Banner who began to check Lynn for a pulse.

"I removed the enchantments, as agreed."

Steve looked at Banner. "Is she alive?"

"Yes. She's just...she's asleep." Bruce was confused and it showed. Tony took up the conversational torch.

"You said enchantments. With an 's'. How many were there?"

Loki begrudged the man's perception. It was terribly difficult to conceal one's actions when another could so easily pick them apart. "Multitudes. If there were but one I might have removed it without full use of my magic." And he stopped. If they craved more understanding, they would need to pry it forth from unwilling lips.

Dr. Banner pried. He had no choice; in order to treat his patient, he needed to know what they might now face. "What were they?" He was rewarded with a corresponding question.

"Have you observed her sleeping?"

Silence. The trickster continued to that silence, knowing that they were not enjoying this promenade into a torturer's methods.

"Her sleep was dismissed, and a good bit of her cravings for hunger and drink. She survived on the barest minimum required by your mortal functions. She will wake requiring supplements - when she wakes."

"They took her _sleep_?" Tony seemed impressed, intrigued and disgusted all at once. Sleep deprivation due to fear was one thing; entirely removing a prisoner's sleep...he was glad, very glad, that his own captors had no such resources.

Loki ignored his question, having already answered it. "I can do no more. My temporary reprieve has expired."

"Good," Natasha said. "Then get out." Loki glanced at his mother, whose composed nod drove him to rising. He bowed, again, to her, before Thor gripped his arm to move him back to his prison.

"As my Lady Queen wishes."

* * *

Jane kept herself busy with every project she could dream up to distract herself from the reality that Thor was gone, millions of light years away, and until he came back with the boat he would remain gone. She tried to convince Fury that she needed to return on the next trip; Fury explained that she was booked with meetings for the next three weeks with assorted organizations and universities who were expressing interest in traveling to Asgard with her. She was to be one of the primary filters for anyone allowed to enter the Golden Realm.

She felt this responsibility deep inside of her chest. She wasn't just protecting an alien race. She was protecting Thor's home world from the influence of humanity - and vice versa. There were aspects between the races which could be shared that excited her. There were other aspects which troubled her. Many of the Æsir were arrogant when it came to humans, and she couldn't blame them. Compared to their lifespans, humans lived barely long enough to warrant the attention. She was struggling with how to handle the reality of long-term relations. The burden would fall primarily on the mortal side, unless she could convince Asgard to assign Earth-specific envoys.

Would Thor consider such a position? He was the primary promoter of Earth within Asgard, but he was also their future king. Was it even possible for a king to serve as an envoy?

Jane was sitting at a workbench in her lab when Director Fury strolled in. She didn't notice him at first. She was taking a break and reading the latest issue of _Science_. She'd turned to the latest paper on the Higgs Boson and was making personal notes and writing down excerpts in her own notebook, thoughts which might help guide her research or quotes she suspected would gain meaning the more time she gave herself to think about them. She began scrawling an equation across the page, directly underneath one of the almost-inspiring quotes. It was related, somehow. It was relevant to this equation, if only she could think up connection. It was similar to a word sticking in a person's mind, a word they knew but couldn't remember unless given time.

"Miss Foster?"

Jane yelped and her pen shot across the page in a jagged line. She pressed a hand to her chest and wheezed. Director Fury came into view on her right hand side and waited for her to calm down.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you."

"Oh, it's - it's alright, I just -" She was tugging at her scattered journals, all open to different pages with different news, trying to create a tidy stack and instead creating more of an unruly mess. Director Fury smiled.

"I wanted to ask you for a report."

She stared blankly at him.

"On Asgard," he added.

"Oh! It's great! It's wonderful. There's a lot of _life_ there, we're going to learn so much from them." She glowed when she spoke of Thor's realm and Nick found his enthusiasm rising in response. Jane's excitement was contagious in the best possible way. He trusted her to handle the upcoming meetings with extreme pizazz.

"That's excellent news, Miss Foster."

"Ugh, don't. It's just Jane."

Nick smiled. "I have a project I'd like to discuss with you."

"Um, well I've got these meetings the next few weeks -"

"I'm aware. This will be a long-term project, and it might involve a few of the contacts you'll be meeting."

She looked shocked. "Are you sure you want _me_ interviewing? I've never been great at scanning people, Erik's much better at it than me."

"We've contacted Dr. Selvig about this project and he's agreed to come and assist you. But you're the one we want at the helm."

She opened her mouth, closed it, then tried again. "What is it?"

Nick was the image of calm and collected. His hands were folded behind his back and he stood with his legs slightly spread, casual yet intense. Jane bumbled her way through her stack of magazines and finally gave up to give him her full attention.

"Stark and Banner's boat is fine for now, but it's not a permanent solution. I'd like you to help us design a bridge to use for interspatial travel."

Jane lit up with excitement. "You want me to work on an Einstein-Rosen machine?"

Nick nodded. "Without the Tesseract. We can't rely on that technology because it's not ours to keep. We need our own to compete."

Jane was already scribbling in her notebook. She chattered faster and faster as exhilaration built within her. Building the Tesseract's machine had been a great experience, but this, _this_ was the fulfillment of her life's work. The realization and vindication that her work was both necessary and crucial to the future of humanity.

She couldn't sit still. Just in case Fury needed a real response, she babbled aloud as she wrote her notes.

"Yes, absolutely! Of course! I'd be, I'd be honored and delighted and - you have no, _no idea_ how much I'd - yes, that would be just great and I -"

"Miss Foster - Jane." She looked up from her hurried writing. "I get it."

A sly calculation passed over her features. "This means I'll need to go back to Asgard again. I can ask for materials on the Bifrost to help us out."

Nick's friendly smile didn't waver. "After your meetings, you'll be on the next trip."

That was easier than she'd expected, and she stumbled over her next words. "Th-thank you. Thank you! This is great! This is really great. Do I have a budget?"

Nick raised his hand to tide the flow of questions he saw building in her. "Not yet. We need to wait until we see how many will be working this, and can get an estimate for a time frame. If you could start thinking about that, we can start on our end."

"Yeah! I'm on it. Seriously, this is...this is a dream come true, Fury, thanks for the chance, thanks!"

Nick took his leave before she could pull him into a hug.

* * *

Clint pictured a mental blackboard in his head with one clear chalk mark scrawling down. The phantom hand was poised to add another line. He paused at the guards and showed them today's contents: an assortment of Asgardian fruits and a small wedge of bread with cheese melted along the top. Natasha was behind him today. He shook his head when she moved to follow him down the stairs, and pointed at the ground in front of the topmost step. _Wait here._

She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. He turned to descend and she didn't follow.

Today Loki was sitting on that stone pedestal, twisting one of his cuffs around his wrist in obvious boredom. He raised his eyebrows to see Barton approaching him again and looked at the bulging napkin in the archer's hands.

"Will this be a habit, Agent Barton?"

Clint had taken the time to knot the top of the napkin together so that he could toss it into Loki's perimeter without coming too close. The makeshift pouch thwapped against the side of Loki's stone and fell to the floor. Some of the fruit would probably suffer from that. Barton didn't feel too guilty though.

The archer didn't respond, knowing that if the man had any weakness, it was jabber. It was no wonder he loved to talk so much. Lies needed voice to carry them, didn't they?

Loki looked down at the pouch without moving to retrieve it. "If this is an attempt to poison me, I assure you it is futile. I am provided daily meals, you realize."

"I've heard." Clint crossed his arms and itched to feel the curve of his bow and the shaft of an arrow between his fingers. He felt naked without his weapon. "Also heard you don't eat any of it. Thought maybe you wanted something different."

"Your concern, as before, is touching." Loki tilted his head. "May I ask _why_ you are so concerned?"

Clint shrugged. "Call it a thank you. You did alright. Could've warned us about the sleep thing, though."

Now Loki looked amused. "I might've, had I known how the effects would manifest once the enchantments were removed."

"Well. Thanks anyway." And he turned to go back up the stairs. He paused at the bottom step when a smooth voice rang behind him.

"It won't work, this strategy." Clint turned and looked at him, pretending that the dampness he felt on his forehead was from the heat of the nearby torches.

"It could never work," Loki continued. He smiled as though he were discussing the weather and stared as though Clint could not move without permission. Perched as he was on the pedestal, Clint thought of the big cats of the circus when they would turn their heads to stare unendingly at something they wanted to study, mysterious and all-consuming in their focus. He'd never had a chance to ask those predators what they saw when they glared so hard at something. He thought he might have a chance to ask this one sometime.

_No time like the present._

"What do you see?" Clint turned around to face Loki fully and tilted his head as well, mocking the trickster's position. Loki scowled at the silent jab.

"Do narrow it down, Agent Barton. In general? Of the world?"

"In humans."

The trickster laughed. "Have I not made my regard of your species clear? Would you like to hear it again, how I judge you so harshly?"

He was talking more readily. Clint decided to try.

"Then why did you do it? If you hate humans, why would you want to rule them?"

Loki snarled. "I do not _hate_ your cursed race. If I _hated_ you, I'd destroy you."

"Alright. Then why Earth? There's nine other realms, right? What's so special about..."

Clint realized he'd pressed his luck a moment too late. Loki's earlier amusement and later agitation gave way to a wash of cold fury.

"Thor sent you." The trickster moved now, his feet touching the floor as he advanced on Barton. He stopped a moment before his chains would have forced him to. There was no mistaking the biting cold in the air. How had it gotten so cold all of a sudden? Even the torches seem to shiver in the chill.

"That is why you come here. My benighted false _brother_ sends you on these errands, knowing _he_ will find no answers."

There was no way for the trickster to outwardly display his anger, no glass container to beat his fist against. Still, he snarled at the mortal and frost puffed from his breath.

"_Get out_. And tell Odinson his attempt has _failed_."

Clint raised his hands and backed away. He picked his steps carefully to keep moving backwards once he found the bottom step, keep his back behind him and his eyes facing Loki. _Offer food and back away, offer food and back away, dammit Clint, you broke the rule! _

Of course it wasn't just his actions. Something he said must've reminded the trickster of Thor, which meant that the takeover of Earth also had to do with Thor in part. That wasn't surprising; Earth was Thor's favorite toy, and any sibling worth their salt would either play with it as well or resent it and break it from jealousy. The question was, which side did Loki fall on? It was easy to assume resentment, except that in his twisted way - and Barton knew this better than any of the Avengers, having lived under the trickster's direct influence - Loki _had_ wanted to help humans. He'd wanted to subjugate them in order to stop their feuding and internal conflicts. It wasn't a graceful or kind attempt, but the intention was heartfelt. The problem was, the heart that felt it was cold and black as night.

At the top of the steps Natasha gripped his forearm and pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. "You're cold," she announced with concern.

"Yeah, I pissed him off." He glanced at the guards. Natasha followed his look and turned to walk away. He followed.

"Well?"

"Nothing yet. It's gonna take a while longer. I need to be patient."

"Clint, patience is not one of your virtues."

They stepped into the castle proper and he gave her a crooked grin. "I just imagine myself punching him a lot. It makes the time pass pretty quick."

She rolled her eyes. "Where are we going?"

"I thought you were leading."

"Then tell me where to go."

He pointed in a vague direction of the castle, close to Thor's room. "I want to talk to Thor for a second."

"Does he know what you're up to?" Clint shook his head and Natasha shook hers. "Do you think he'll like hearing it?"

"The guy's his brother." _No, I don't._ "But I have an idea."


	15. Dark Days

It was the dead of night once more. Thor and his humans were stowed away in their corresponding quarters and the trickster was peering down at the slumbering woman from her bedside. There was purpose to this visit beyond his mild curiosity. Loki needed this woman to trust him implicitly, which meant she needed to see beyond his situation. If she were told of him by one of the Avengers, no doubt they would poison her thoughts against the trickster and douse any chance of influence. He needed to let her see him as he wanted and tell her of his circumstance himself. Or rather, tell her what he wanted her to believe of his circumstance. Though she might later hear the truth, she would remember this first glimpse and see the truth through her tainted view.

And like a baby bird poking its head from its shell, he would be the first that she saw, and as such the first that she learned to trust on sight. He intended to take full advantage of that moment of first impression. It was he who healed her; he felt it fair that it be he she first saw and associated with her new-found safety.

She needed to wake, though, and he was never one for patience when his plan demanded action.

"Waken."

His projection was not solid enough for a good shove. He raised his voice and leaned closer instead to increase his volume. It worked this time; she twisted her head slowly with a slight moan. She swiped her right forearm across her mouth and turned her head, exhausted enough to slip again into sleep. He scowled and felt ire rising like bile within him. That he would be reduced to pandering to this mortal, this little nothing who _meant nothing_ -

"Open your eyes," he commanded. He snapped his voice with authority, a tone which in the past often brought Thor and his simpering comrades to immediate attention. It was through time and the craving for battle that they learned to ignore him in favor of Thor's blustering. Ever the fool to rush forward into battles he desired only to prove himself powerful.

The effect on the mortal was impressive, and Loki remembered a moment too late that the company she kept so recently favored obedience above all things. Her hands rose in a defensive posture to cover her head as her knees rose to shield her torso from attack from above. Of course, he mused. She felt the wall at her back, so to speak, lying on this bed as she was, and her instincts demanded she defend herself from the fore.

He'd heard tales of warriors who struggled to adjust to civilian life after a long war but had never concerned himself with the victims of those wars. He had merely fought alongside his false brother, and bested the enemies, and gone home to feasts and celebrations while the defeated tended their dead and wounded and dealt with the aftermath of vicious warfare. Even then, the victims dealt with were the likes of the Vanir and Jötun, and the victorious of Asgard. If they were impacted by war in ways outside of gained honor and glory or lost honor and shame, there was little to document such things. In comparison, what was the tragedy of a human life, squelched out mere decades before its inevitable demise, compared to the tragedy of a life spanning thousands of years being lost to the horrors of war?

He knew Thor's humans thought him arrogant, as Thor himself had once been - yet how could his arrogance compare against a species which lived so little and yet expected others to value them so highly? What could they be called but motes of dust, ants struggling for another day's bread? Why did they slaughter each other in such numbers if their lives were so precious?

Why did they fight so frantically to resist a solution to their own demise?

Her continued distress egged on his ill regard of her people. He clenched his jaw against his sneer and schooled his features into an impassive mask. These were thoughts to consider alone, in time. For now, he must play the altruistic.

"It is alright," he said. His voice was laced with oil and sweet promises. He could make her believe him with less effort than this, but now was not the time to show restraint. His own life hung on this mortal's esteem ringing true in the All-Father's ears, and those were a set not so easily fooled by the Silvertongue.

"You are out of harm. I removed the enchantments from your person."

The legs lowered, as did the arms. Her breathing took longer to regulate. He gave her time and investigated her arms. Earlier this day, Banner removed the bandages to reveal the dark skin beneath. Truth be told, he could not easily discern wounds against that dark flesh, finding it as hard to read as Heimdall's own - and he could not recall a time when he'd witnessed that warrior injured. Merely frozen solid in ice.

"It is alright," he repeated, as though this might encourage her further. He was not familiar with the art of comfort any longer. He certainly had no notion of how to approach such a concept with a mortal rather than an Æsir, who might withstand greater force in his efforts to remove their pain. Nonetheless, the second volley succeeded. The hands dropped and a ragged breath passed over her lips. He waited for her to open her eyes; they remained closed in stalwart defiance of his command.

His anger prickled. That this mortal should defy an order by a superior being rankled him as nothing else would. He balled a fist at his side and thanked himself for the forethought of using a form which could not physically assault the woman where she lay. If he hadn't taken such a precaution, he was sure his hands would wrap around her throat and choke the life from her until those eyes bugged from her skull.

Dark thoughts achieved nothing. He leaned away from her and started walking in a slow circuit, pacing the floor. His irritation was taken out upon the pedestal where his physical body rested, a fist hammering against the stone in a sharp _crack_ of restrained frustration.

He smiled upon the woman on his second circuit.

"Surely you wish to open your eyes, little mortal? And see the world you have been ported to by your heroes?"

"Asgard," she said. Her voice cracked and whispered, barely stuttering in the warm night air. Loki kept the smile on his face even as he turned in his circuit to pace away from her. It wouldn't do to be discovered due to a small loss of composure.

"Yes," he agreed. "Asgard."

She said nothing. Her hand again pressed against her eyelids. "You fixed my eyes?"

"Yes."

"How?"

He paused. "Do you not remember?"

She waited a long while to answer, and he allowed the silence to avoid his own temper being lost.

"I remember what you did. But how?"

"Must I detail every -"

A deep breath.

"I used magic."

"Magic." Doubt. Hesitation. "It didn't hurt."

He leaned away from her, his steps following the motion until he checked himself. "It does not have to."

Another long silence as she digested this information. And then another statement that could only, at best, be referred to as arbitrary.

"You're Loki, aren't you?"

He tilted his head. "Yes."

The hand over her eyelids pressed tightly against her face and she took a short breath. "I have a question."

This was not going as smoothly as planned. His frustration would soon get the better of him; already he imagined himself menacing her, forcing her to comply with his request via fear. Prying her eyelids open to see her finally staring at him, to see what he wished her to see. Instead he was to be asked a question - and he must defer to her wishes lest he ruin his impressions.

He couldn't quite hide the snarl from his face, though he kept it from his words with a mighty effort.

"A sole question? I would think you'd have several, even hundreds. Constant questions are the way you mortals handle the world around you."

"Just one."

The woman - _Lynn Creed_, he reminded himself - did not move. He waited as she gathered her thoughts into one sentence.

"Did they take me because of you?"

The trickster laughed. "Perhaps they observed my dealings with you, and thought to perturb me with your abduction." It was clear from his steady tone that the ploy hadn't worked, were that the case. Gods could never seem terribly affected by what happened to human subjects. That he implied he hadn't offered her in his place - that he hadn't cared _at all_ - appeared to give her some comfort. The hand relaxed.

"That is all you wanted to know?" He sounded surprised. "No further questions? Surely you have a torrent."

Nothing. He laughed again and began a steady pacing circle from one end of the bed to the other, restless.

"So," he said, "the human girl is satisfied with but one question."

The hand came down. She pushed herself to sitting and clenched her brow. He stopped his pacing and folded his hands behind his back. The friendly smile reappeared, plastered across an open face full of roguish charm. He would make this moment, _this_ moment above all others, count for the highest value possible. No matter what more she heard after, she would forever be branded by this: the amiable face of the man who saved her sight.

She opened her eyes. He stood straight and proud, as was his way, and waited for them to turn in his direction. Her lips pursed and she did not turn. It was not so dark in the room that she couldn't see him. The stars shone brightly in Asgard, even late into the night, and their brightness cast shadows only where the windows did not reach. And yet still, she looked straight ahead without acknowledging his presence.

Irritation bubbled. He clenched his fingers and counted in a distant language he barely remembered. The exercise of calling forth the words distracted him from his desire to reach forward and rip her head to the side, and possibly from her neck.

A sudden gasping sob shocked him into attentiveness. She blinked several times, wiped both hands across her eyes and blinked again. She squinted. She balled her fists and pressed them against the hollows in her face, pressing until he thought she might rupture her own eyeballs. She looked around the room, searching for something, and in a final gasp of pleading desperation, she stuttered out -

"Does it take a minute?"

Her voice was breaking under the pressure. He jolted at the question, taking her meaning, and shook his head, then stepped forward. "No."

"Are you sure?" Breaking, breaking. Each word stretched into long syllables which crumbled under her distress. She pressed her fists again to the offending orbs and another sob escaped. "Are you sure?"

She was quickly succumbing to hysteria. The trickster looked on, frozen in place until the woman dropped her hands to toss the covers from her legs and turned to the side. Her feet tapped the floor once, then landed firmly and she shifted her weight forward to stand. Her hands reached outward and clawed at the air.

"Where are you? You have - you have to try! Try again! _Try again!_" Her voice rose in pitch and volume; she crashed to her knees and clawed at her cheeks now, just shy of tearing her eyes from their sockets.

Loki stepped back, despite lacking physical substance to be grasped at. His remaining reactions were delayed as he processed what he was witnessing. Blind - still blind? He had removed every enchantment found. Not one was left inside of her body. And yet she claimed herself lacking vision. Not possible. That last thought was important enough to give voice.

"Not possible." He stepped forward, remembering his relative safety. She froze when he spoke, until another sob wracked her entire form. Her clawed hands opened to instead cover her face. He crouched near her to observe from a close distance.

"You see nothing?"

She nodded and echoed in a distant, watery tone, "Nothing." Loki straightened himself without a sound. His features hardened at the utter failure this gesture wrought. To have wasted his time and effort, _so much_ of his effort on this sniveling creature...and yet, why hadn't his attempt succeeded? No matter. It hadn't. Now there was another need: to salvage the situation, irreparable though it might seem.

The truth was often worse than a lie.

"I'm sorry," he lied, smooth and jagged as broken glass. "I have done all that I can for you."

It broke her to hear the words so casually spilled. The hands covering her face slide upwards into her hair and gripped large chunks; she sank forward until her forehead rested mere inches above the cool floor. Her breathing hitched, her body jerked. She began to shiver and he realized the quiet hissing in the air was her own whispering heartbreak.

"No," she said, "no, no no no, you - you said you - you fixed it, you fixed - no, God, oh God please no -"

Tears and dashed hopes were a particular specialty of his. He lamented that this was not a situation he could take any amount of credit for, until he remembered that this was the same person he needed on his side. It wouldn't do to be caught in such musings, even within his head - for his ideas had a terrible habit of coming to light in the worst moments. He stepped away from her, away from his failure, and bowed his head though she could not see it.

He left her to her misery. He had done enough for the night.

* * *

"This is a terrible idea." Clint was shaking his head as he walked through the castle's wide hallways with Thor and Natasha, his voice low enough that Natasha, who walked next to him, strained to hear him. "Loki's already fixed her up."

"I will not allow my brother to cause further harm -"

"Like you did on Earth?"

"I had not yet realized the depths of my brother's madness. Now I am aware. It is he who removed the enchantments; if any complications have arisen, his presence would expedite the questioning."

Clint and Natasha looked at each other. The two of them moved in tandem behind the thunder god, who was headed to Loki's cell in order to gather the younger god to be present for today. It was the morning after Lynn's eyes were healed, and the healers insisted she be woken to ensure that she was truly recovering.

"Thor," Clint began, "I need to tell you something about your brother."

Thor stopped walking and turned. Clint's tone was serious, and after their previous conspiratorial conversation that was enough to draw Thor's undivided attention.

The shorter man glanced at Natasha, who nodded and moved ahead a few paces to keep watch for others.

"I've been visiting him."

Thor's eyebrows rose. Clint raised his hands.

"Just bringing him food, barely any talking. You know I can't - anyway. Last time I asked him a question and it made him think you were sending me. I'd like to know why."

"What was the question?"

Clint took a deep breath. "I asked him why he came to Earth."

Thor nodded. "I have asked him much the same. He reacts poorly to the question."

Clint felt enlightened. "Then that's the trigger." He crossed his arms. "It's easy to assume it's because you like Earth, but that's not all. There's another reason."

"My mother thinks this was his attempt to make Earth worthy of my protection."

Clint's expression almost drew a laugh from the thunder god. "It would not be the first such project my brother tackled. But I believe this was more to do with the Tesseract."

"That's how he got to Earth."

"Yes." Thor looked away at the sound of approaching voices; three Æsir dressed in noble clothing rounded the corner, chatting away about Asgardian concerns. Thor lowered his voice. "And I believe the bargaining chip for having use of the Chitauri army."

"He sure didn't act like he expected not to have it." Thor creased his brow at the archer, who continued. "He acted like it was a tool for continued use, not like we weren't going to have it later."

"He spoke to me of wielding its power..." The thunder god felt ill and caught in a trap; yet another of Loki's convoluted plots without end. Loki loved nothing if not the art of scheming and manipulation. The question stood: who was he manipulating at this moment, and to what purpose?

The three Æsir passed by, and in another moment Tony poked his head around the same corner and hollered down the hallway.

"Hey, come on! We're going to check on the kid! Bruce wants us all there."

* * *

Some things were best done alone. A complete and total mental breakdown was one such occurrence, and Lynn was glad she'd been abandoned when it began. She hated to cry in front of anyone, and last night she'd done more than cry. She'd wept, she'd pleaded, she'd smashed her fist into the floor until it felt sore enough to force her to stop. She'd begged the nothing around her for mercy.

No one came to help her. No one ever came when she asked.

The Avengers had rescued her for - what? She'd been blind, but then the shining beacon of hope stirred. It could be fixed. It could be fixed, she would see and the life she wanted would be back on track in a matter of months. She could return to Earth and forget all of this, treat it as another strange dream from her many years of night terrors. Another incident to file away and work through with a counselor indirectly, never speaking of the cause of the issue, only the scars remaining.

Now she was sitting on the same stupid bed she'd been living in for what felt like weeks. One by one the Avengers who she couldn't see gathered while wizened, calloused hands pressed against her temples. She could tell each time a new Avenger arrived because of the sudden reaction, a quick "oh!" or unceremonious stumbling of feet. Dr. Banner, she knew, was standing next to the man sitting at her side. Steve Rogers, aka Captain America, was somewhere in the room shuffling his feet nervously. Tony had been the one to stumble when he entered, and the moment Dr. Banner said he wanted the rest of the team present, tore out of there to gather Thor, Clint and Natasha.

She recited their names over and over in her head to try and remember them. She couldn't write them down to review since she couldn't see what she'd written to look over it later.

She took a deep breath and focused on the hands on her forehead. Like before, she felt nothing at all - magic supposedly was coursing through her this very moment and she didn't even feel a tingle. What did _he_ feel? Did it feel like anything at all?

A new group arrived. She recognized Tony Stark's voice from down the hallway. The other three were familiar, voices she'd heard but couldn't place yet. She'd get there. She just needed practice and time.

Tony bustled into the room and the three voices followed. Natasha was the only girl, so that must be her. The other two were -

"Father?"

The deep voice was Thor, then. That was a pretty distinct voice. That left Clint Barton, the archer.

Odin All-Father shifted, looking at her son she imagined. Of course, she imagined with neither face nor form since she'd never seen the man. A basic human shape, turning to regard his son who had just entered the room.

Lynn bit her lip and lowered her face. She closed her eyes and sighed.

"Father, what are you doing here?" So much confusion, she almost laughed. She already knew the answer, as did Dr. Banner who'd asked before. She began picking at her nails while the All-Father filled in the rest of the Avengers.

"Your brother demanded my presence late into the night, Thor, and requested that I review his efforts in his stead. He expressed concern that his magic may not have been enough."

Dr. Banner broke in now, having waited for Odin to finish. "She still can't see."

"_What?_" Too much anger in that word; she couldn't tell which man had spoken.

"She can't see," Steve confirmed. Every time he spoke she thought of puppies and apple pies. It seemed to work, and she recognized his voice almost as easily as Dr. Banner's. "Whatever Loki did, it didn't work."

"Father, how -"

"It is not a magical enchantment." Odin stood; she heard the chair creak along with his old bones. How old was he, anyway? He was from the same legends as Thor, but he was Thor's _father_. How much older did that make him? How old could people in Asgard get?

Odin was speaking again. "There is naught I can do for her." The volume changed; he'd turned to her and was addressing her directly now. "I am sorry, child."

The All-Father, the king of the Norse gods, the most powerful being in Asgard, couldn't fix this. Lynn kept picking at her nails to keep her mind wandering. If she thought about this too much, she'd do something best done alone.

* * *

The argument was well into the hour and Natasha wanted to pummel every man within twenty yards. Seeing the brewing discontent in his team, Steve had excused the lot of them from Lynn's presence and dragged them across the way to Thor's quarters for a robust discussion. In true Avengers fashion, the discussion disintegrated into a yelling match between opposing factions. Thor and Clint insisted that she remain in Asgard, where treatments were supplemented by powers not found on Earth. Tony and Steve argued for her return. Tony even offered Stark Tower as a home base so that the Avengers could keep a close eye on their adopted charge. Bruce stood awkwardly in the middle, wanting to help the girl but unsure which path offered her the best options.

Natasha stood to the side and watched the men debate over the life choices of a young woman. She didn't bother concealing her scowl of disapproval; unfortunately Steve was the only one of them who both looked at her and seemed worried about her expression.

Tony stepped into Clint's personal space and both the archer and assassin tensed. Tony balled a fist, raised it in front of Clint's face and uncoiled one finger just in front of the archer's nose.

"Look, Clint, Asgard's been great but it's not really _handicapable_."

Thor boomed out, "I assure you Stark, there is no limitation to our accommodations for Lady Creed. We have hosted blind heroes in the past, and -"

"But Thor," Steve said, "you can't expect her to be as durable. She'd get hurt easier than your heroes, she's just a human -"

Clint pinched both temples with one hand and sighed. "I'm not taking her back. I say no."

Steve had a sudden realization and squared off with the shorter archer. "What aren't you telling us, Clint?"

Clint looked at him sideways. "I didn't say that."

"It's pretty implied. What's wrong? Why don't you want her going back?"

"Guys." Banner barely gained the attention of Tony, much less the rest of the Avengers. Clint had stepped up to the Captain's line and was snarling into his face.

"Look Cap, we can't just hand her over -"

"Hey, guys." Bruce tried again; this time Thor and Natasha looked at him and Tony raised an eyebrow. Steve was still too focused on his target.

"Agent Barton, you need to step away."

"Guys," Natasha said, and they all turned to look at her. Bruce sighed but accepted her gracious hand-wave in his direction.

"She's awake now. We can't keep making decisions for her anymore."

Natasha could have kissed the man. Steve's expression softened while Clint's hardened. Steve was clearly able to accept that Lynn should be allowed to make her own decisions now; Clint was less than willing.

"It doesn't matter," he declared, and the silence that followed his statement was tense. Steve tried again to soothe the troubled archer, lowering his voice to soothing tones.

"Clint, I understand that you're worried for her but she needs to be allowed to decide something for herself."

"Damn right," Tony agreed. "It'll do wonders for her. Bet she's sick of being told what to do." He knew _he_ had been.

"It's not simple."

Bruce met Clint's eyes and understood in a sudden rush of fear. Fury had that conversation twice that day. But only twice. He and Clint were all too familiar with what was going on. The rest of the team still looked baffled. To give them a chance to understand, Bruce gently asked, "Why not, Barton?"

Clint watched Bruce with those too-perceptive eyes and nodded. He replied to him loudly enough for all of the Avengers to hear. "Because the Council wants her back."

"The 'nuke all the world' Council?" Tony managed to look pale as he asked. Barton nodded.

"Fury requested that I bring her back as soon as possible." He jerked his chin at Bruce. "Him too. Apparently the Council thinks Asgard might not appreciate our show of force."

Thor spoke up on behalf of his homeland. "Asgard will not interfere with Midgard's right to defend itself."

"Yeah, see, that's great and all, but this isn't defense." Tony dug through his pockets and produced a small disc which he set in the center of the floor.

"This is your world on nukes."

In a moment, the disc became a projector. An image of the nuclear mushroom cloud appeared. In another moment, the image flickered and revealed the devastated aftermath of a city - Hiroshima. Pictures continued flickering along, a progression of horrors featuring the dead, the wounded, and occasionally their shadows forever imprinted into the sides of buildings. When the aftermath pictures ran out, new images appeared: creatures so distorted that in some cases they no longer appeared human, and yet if one sought out the standard features of the human body they were present and accounted for - if morphed into sad, terrible malformations of themselves.

Steve looked like he might become ill and Tony waved a hand through the projection to cut it off. "I brought it 'cause I thought we might need to explain why we weren't gonna do it."

Thor looked at all of them. "Midgard would attack Asgard in such a manner?"

"It could happen." Steve sounded as though his vocal chords were strained to their maximum. "If we felt threatened enough, Thor, it could happen."

"And everyone would know it." Tony rubbed his arc reactor, a nervous gesture gained over the years. "All the 'Nine,' as you call them. You saw it yourself, Thor. We get threatened, we fight back, we shoot to kill.

"And it lasts a while, too. Those deformed pics were taken years after the bombing. _Years_. This stuff sticks around. We take revenge for generations."

Thor could hardly process this revelation. True, his own father kept an assortment of powerful artifacts locked in the vault, any one of which might make this nuclear bomb minimal in comparison. And yet, these weapons were kept locked away from use and never touched. Using them was expressly forbidden by the All-Father himself.

In an odd moment of clarity, Thor wondered if Loki would better understand this human need to annihilate. Thor himself had aimed to kill many of the Jötuns, slaughter them until they were broken and refused to return again to the lands of Asgard. Loki, when pressed, aimed to destroy their entire realm. Perhaps this was the camaraderie he felt that he might harness when he meant to rule them. Above and yet similar, the same cruel impulses hiding under similar skins.

The thunder god tightened his face. Perhaps his brother's cruelty came honestly, then. They had dealt with humans in years gone by, when humanity was as civilized as warring tribes could ever be. Now the sons of those tribes warred still with weapons of greater magnitude. Was it any wonder that Loki looked upon them and saw them in need of a savior, and himself perhaps the savior they needed? Who better to understand the darker impulses of humanity than one who felt them as well?

His teammates were speaking once more, and the thunder god dragged himself from his musings to listen.

"...and then she'll be alone at SHIELD."

"Do you think they'd hurt her, Clint?"

"Do you think they wouldn't?"

Now Barton was facing Natasha, who shook her head to acknowledge Clint's point. He swooped his glare across all of them.

"This kid has no one, _no one_ to watch out for her once we give her up. This is SHIELD. Nat and I know what they're capable of, we've _done_ most of it."

Bruce shook his head. "We can't hold her hostage in one place to keep her from being a hostage in another."

"Yes we can."

"Clint, that's not -"

"I will speak with the All-Father and the queen about a sustained mortal presence in Asgard." Thor's booming voice halted the conversation otherwise. "I will explain the situation to them." He looked around. "Is there another matter to discuss?"

Steve looked at each of them, then shook his head. Thor nodded.

"Then I shall see you all on the morrow."

The thunder god's abrupt departure left hesitation and tension in its wake.

"Damn," Bruce said, looking at Tony. "Maybe we shouldn't have made it graphic."

"He deserves to know."

"And now his parents will know."

Steve sighed. "He said 'mortal,' so we don't know where that leaves us. Everyone go to bed. If we get booted in the morning, we should at least be rested for it."

* * *

Lynn had pulled herself from her bed and felt her way to the breeze entering the room. She swiped her hand along the air until it came to rest on what felt like a low platform. The breeze was strongest here, and she could smell water and plants wafting in from outside. This must be the window.

She investigated the sill with both hands to check the wideness, then rested herself on the edge and leaned against the side of the sill. She crossed her arms lightly across her chest and closed her eyes. A deep breath filled her with the scents of Asgard - the powerful aroma of blooming flowers, the metallic buildings, the bustling life below. She couldn't see the citizens, but she could hear them scurrying about their day. It was still morning, which meant the day was beginning for many of those footsteps she could hear below. There might even be a market. That, or Asgardian foods were more pungent than their Earth counterparts. She'd have to remember to ask the other humans here.

"What are you doing?"

A woman's patient voice. There was concern there, overpowered by simple curiosity. Lynn smiled. It was nice to speak with a woman, even if she couldn't see her audience.

"I wanted to get to know the city. What does it look like?"

Natasha Romanoff stepped forward. Lynn felt the presence move closer to the window, heard the quiet rustle of Natasha's feet across the floor. She turned her head in the woman's direction to acknowledge her, then turned her nose back toward the breeze. They remained quiet together for a long, happy moment. Lynn felt relaxed for the first time in days.

"It's very golden. Thor calls it the Golden Realm, if you could see it you'd appreciate how literal that is."

Lynn couldn't help the light laugh that startled out of her. Natasha was both perceptive and sarcastic. A good combination.

"There's a lot of people down below. It's a busy city, close together and crowded. It reminds me of Paris except for the metal everywhere."

"Never been to Paris." Lynn uncurled one arm and straightened it out into the warm air. The air felt soothing. "I bet it doesn't smell this nice."

It was Natasha's turn to laugh. "Not always, no. I wonder if they do it on purpose? Golden smells for the Golden Realm."

"Sounds like a good name for a product."

Another comfortable silence fell. Lynn knew something was coming, but without visual clues she could only wait it out. Lucky for her, Natasha didn't like to drag out inquiries.

"Lynn, do you want to go home?"

Instant fear tightened in her chest. _Home_. Where was home? Back to her crummy apartment and the life she could no longer have? Visions of Earth dying in hundreds of ways played across her mind. She shuddered.

"Do I have a choice?"

"Yes." Total determination. It felt nice to have someone on her side. It felt even nicer to have a choice. The problem was, she didn't have the choice she wanted anymore. She dropped her spread arm into her lap and looked in the direction she thought Natasha might be.

"I wanted to be a microbiologist." Natasha didn't respond. Lynn kept speaking into the quiet, her sadness suddenly overwhelming her as tears pricked her eyes. "I worked for it my whole life. They always say most orphans age out and hit the streets or the prisons. I didn't want that. I wanted to be something else. Something specific"

She hugged herself. "I can't do that now. I can't look through a microscope and see my results. I can't read the machines or the charts. This one thing, this is all I've ever worked for. And now I can't have it."

Lynn took a long, shuddering breath and let it out in a whoosh. Natasha watched as the weight disappeared from one moment to the next. In the ashes of her confession. she gave the assassin an honest to goodness smile and nodded in her direction.

"Thank you," she lied. "For saving my life."

"You're welcome," Natasha replied. It was only fair to let the girl keep her lie. It was easier than bearing the truth.

* * *

Sif's gloved fist cracked across Steve's jaw with enough force to break a less resilient man's resolve, not to mention his bones. Steve staggered backwards with a yelp and rubbed the aching muscle. Sif straightened from the boxing stance and narrowed her eyes at him.

"You are too distracted today. Distraction is dangerous in the training ring."

"Sorry," the Captain mumbled. He pressed a cool water skin to the side of his face and sighed. "Let's call it a day."

"Steve," Sif said, almost hesitant as she tried out the less formal version of her friend's title, "are you certain? You use this time to vent frustration, and you are very frustrated are you not?"

Steve gave her a wry smile. "I hope you don't feel like I only like you for your fists." Sif laughed and shook her head, eyes shining with mirth. "Oh good. I'd hate it if you thought that."

Sif took a sip of her own water skin and carried on a short personal debate with herself. She was thinking on the cryptic conversation she'd witnessed between Clint and Natasha. The two spies fooled Fandral, who had spent a portion of the conversation admiring Natasha's figure rather than listening to the words. Sif, on the other hand, listened carefully and thought she might have understood at least a portion of what was being discussed. There were only two concerns on the minds of the Avengers, after all, and only one of those concerns would require devious forethought to approach.

There were more diplomatic ways to convey the information. Sif preferred to avoid diplomacy, She barreled forward into a fray - though she hoped this would not become an argument.

"Steve," she said, "I believe your archer is planning something with Loki."

Steve was in the middle of dabbing the sweat from his face with a thick towel and froze for a moment. He finished his dabbing, then folded the towel into a neat square and tossed it onto the table next to his water skin. "What do you know?"

Sif recognized the voice of command when she heard it, having experienced the same tone from Thor countless times before. She stood a little straighter in response, though stopped shy of placing her hand over her heart in salute. Steve was her friend, not her commander.

"I overheard a conversation between Clint and Natasha. They spoke in riddles, so I could not say their exact plans, but it sounded as though it concerned Loki."

Steve nodded. "I'll talk to him. Thanks for telling me."

"Of course." Sif picked up her own towel and mimicked his earlier movements until her face no longer felt salty to the touch. Despite her love of battle and warfare, she hated the sensation of sweat upon her skin and was glad to be rid of it with great haste.

"Can I ask you a question?" Steve sounded hesitant, an emotion she did not associate with the confident man. She raised her eyebrows and nodded. What question might he ask of her that he would be nervous to ask? Or was he worried about her reply?

"Lynn Creed," he said. "She's awake now."

"Yes, I was there after she awoke."

Steve clenched his jaw. "We're disagreeing on what to do with her now. Tony and I want to take her home. Clint and Thor think we should keep her here. Bruce doesn't know which is better for her. Natasha won't say what she thinks, but she looks mad when we argue about it."

Sif blinked in surprise. Steve wanted her opinion on what to do with the mortal girl? She mulled over his words with a critical mind. The men were arguing; Natasha was annoyed. She thought about that in greater detail, then reevaluated Steve's description of the argument. A spark of annoyance lit inside of her, and she looked at Steve, ready to give her answer. He was watching her for her reaction, and when she met his eyes he said a quick, "Uh oh."

She squared off to him, tossing her towel to the table so that she could cross her arms.

"Why is Lynn not included in these arguments?"

"Ah, well -"

"You would decide her life for her?"

Steve kept his mouth shut this time. He learned quickly. Sif was bristling and he didn't want her to punch him without a glove on first.

"You are being unfair to this woman. She deserves to decide for herself."

"Well, she's blind -"

"Is her mind affected?" She waited; Steve's silence was answer enough. "You are removing her ability to choose for herself. What you want for her is irrelevant. You must give her the options and let her choose."

Steve looked away, worry etched into every line of his face. "Sif, she could be in real danger -"

"As she was before." Sif gestured to herself. "How many women are among the warriors of Asgard, Steve? Have you seen any, beyond myself?" He shook his head. "No. There are very few, because we are not given that choice. Those of us who choose the warrior's path face hardships until our dying days. But it is a choice we make for ourselves."

Steve looked darkly amused. "So that's why Natasha's mad."

"I believe she would understand Lynn's position better than you men."

Steve hardened. "I'm a soldier, decisions are made for me all the time."

"Yes," Sif agreed. "Men are put into similar positions. But they have never experienced those things as a woman."

"You're saying we should back off."

Sif nodded. "Let me speak with your Natasha, and we will speak with Lynn Creed together. She will decide for herself, and we will respect her decision."

Steve decided not to mention Thor's impending conversation with his parents about allowing mortals to stay in Asgard. That was a conversation to have another day, when his jaw wasn't still aching for her last blow.

* * *

She'd taken a nap after Natasha's visit, or at least used the excuse to shoo the assassin from the room and give herself a few hours of quiet. She tried lying down and taking a real nap for the first several minutes, then threw the covers from her legs and began pacing in front of the bed. She moved carefully at first, uncertain of each step until she found the exact number she could walk in one direction before turning back. _Ten steps forward, ten steps back, don't change direction or stride._

She rubbed a hand against her sternum and breathed as deeply as she could. Where was this pressure coming from? She would not cry again. It was pointless and just led to feeling worse. She rubbed until the pressure passed. _It is time to be a big girl now, Lynn. _

"You must be thirsty."

She was. At the reminder thirst and hunger slammed into her body as a locomotive might, and both made her dizzy in their intensity. She pressed a wrist to her forehead and murmured.

"Then drink."

She wanted to refuse but her body wanted that liquid more. About the time the goblet entered her hand, her brain caught up. She froze and sucked in a breath. The water remained in her hand.

"The eight-legged horse is real," he said. Apparently he'd been reminded of their normal interactions, and felt the need to clarify. She inhaled deeply, then decided against replying. It didn't matter one way or another, but it did resolve certain questions.

Loki either took her silence as interest, or didn't care if she were interested. He continued. "I found him deformed and abandoned by his herd. He could hardly walk for all his limbs and needed guidance." A pause, as though to see her reaction. "I named him Sleipnir."

Lynn couldn't ignore her burning thirst any longer. She drank slowly because she felt his eyes on her. When she finished she held out the cup into the air. A hand grazed against hers as the cup was taken from her. She shivered and hugged herself.

"I see the All-Father's visit made no difference." He sounded disappointed. She shook her head and sat on the edge of the bed. She tapped a nervous rhythm on her knees.

"Thank you for trying," she said. It seemed like the right thing to say, and she couldn't think of anything better. He scoffed. She heard the weight of his steps pacing a similar route to the one she'd just abandoned. "You did try."

"And failed," he said. "I await bitter words of blame"

"You expect me to yell at you?" It was inappropriate and odd, and she couldn't stop the short laugh from erupting from her chest. "You didn't do this." She pushed up from the bed and faced in what she thought was his direction, arms crossed. "You didn't do any of this."

"And so you would not blame the eager scapegoat?"

"Blaming you won't change it." She felt stronger for saying it out loud. "It won't change a thing. It happened, now I'll deal with it."

"Such fortitude," he said so quietly she almost didn't hear him. It was harder still to tell if he were mocking her or not. Silence fell after that, and she thought he might have left until he broke the casual quiet.

"You have yet to mention my visits."

She shrugged. "You haven't hurt me."

"Then you know?"

She took her turn to scoff. "The time they knew you would be here, _everyone_ was here. It's obvious." And by this point, Dr. Banner had explained quite a few items of interest about Asgard and this particular prisoner to her.

"Then you are not afraid."

The persistent nothing in her sight rankled. Did he look annoyed? Relieved? Was he trying to menace her? She couldn't say, so she didn't know how she should take that statement. She settled on no reply.

"You have my thanks," he said. She tensed. Was he mocking or honest?

Did it matter if she couldn't see him to tell them difference?

"You're welcome," she replied. "I'll see you around." She meant it as a light hearted joke and was rewarded with a quiet chuckle. She grinned and oriented herself, then walked to the window - _ten steps straight ahead, reach out and feel the sill, twist a little and sit down - _to sit and take in the sounds and smells of this alien world. Even though she couldn't see it, she appreciated that this was an honest to goodness alien world and intended to learn what she could of this place.

If Loki was still in the room, he remained quiet. She let the silence stand.

* * *

Two days later Natasha, Tony and Steve returned to Earth for a few days. Natasha and Tony were both on respective missions. Tony went straight to his lab to begin working on whatever project he'd thought up; Natasha went straight to Jane.

Jane was easy to find, being a perpetual inhabitant of her own lab. She was clicking away at her monitor, eyes shining with scientific inquiry. Natasha tapped the desktop with a nail to gain her attention. Jane continued looking at the screen for several seconds, until an absent "be right there" alerted the assassin that she was acknowledged and ignored for the moment.

Jane finished a complex calculation and leaned back with a contented sigh. "Building this thing's going to be worth it."

"What does Fury have you working on?" Natasha leaned closer to take a look at the calculations. She recognized some of the symbols.

"Our own Einstein-Rosen. It helps that we have that machine, but he wants one without the Tesseract. I have to make it from scratch!"

Anyone but a scientist would hate that idea, Natasha thought. Jane looked so excited she might burst.

"I need your help in Asgard."

Jane's face fell. "Oh, Fury said I couldn't -"

"I'll handle Fury. I need your help. Lynn's awake."

"I heard about that!" Jane scribbled a note in her weathered notebook. "Is she coming home soon?"

"The boys haven't decided yet."

Jane's pen froze. She turned wide eyes to Natasha, who nodded with a scowl.

"_The boys_ are deciding?" Natasha nodded again. "But is she - I mean is she -"

"She's aware." Natasha leaned herself against the desk. "She wanted to go into science. Not like this - biology stuff." Jane nodded, not following this abrupt change of topic. "Jane, she's blind."

Jane jerked out of her seat. "What!"

"She's blind," the assassin repeated. "She's a blind woman with no family and men are making decisions for her." Natasha's face hardened. "She feels sorry for herself."

The fire in the young scientist's eyes was unmistakable. She'd dealt with her share of issues in the physics community, not just for her ideas but also for her gender, and she bristled at the memories.

"Well, then I guess we need to fix that." Jane turned back to the computer and began near-slamming the keys in her search for new information. Natasha nodded.

"Let me know when we're leaving. I have some supplies I need to take with me to collect samples."

"Of course, Miss Foster." Jane made a face and stayed intent on her mission. Natasha left her to it to go find Fury and convince him that she needed Jane in Asgard for a few days.

It was easy, in the end. Natasha never hesitated to use her skills while on the job.

* * *

Clint waited two full days before returning to Loki's cell. He wanted the god to have enough time to cool down. This time he left his bow with the guards, descended, and stood at the perimeter of Loki's circle with the packet of food in hand. He had no idea if the trickster were eating a single morsel of his offerings. The point was the offer itself, and the time spent bringing the food to the wary predator.

That predator was lying on the stone tablet with eyes closed today. Clint waited and pretended the tension in his shoulders wasn't related. Ten full minutes passed this way, him watching the trickster either sleep or meditate without interruption. After the first minute of nothing, Clint began a slow exploration of what he could see. Without emotion to animate his features, Loki looked young and wan. He was certainly slighter built than his behemoth of a brother. He wasn't in full armor now, and without the added perception of bulk Clint could appreciate just how much smaller the younger god was. He and Thor shared comparable heights and fortitude of body; Loki might look young and possibly weak, but that body could take considerable punishment before showing signs of injury.

The less merciful side of Clint's mind began assessing what methods might work, what could be tried to see how much the trickster could take. It would be a good gauge to understand what drove him to his state on Earth. How much could that body take before it showed visible signs of wear and tear?

Of course, for a true gauge the god first needed to eat and regain some semblance of health. He didn't look as bad as he had when he'd arrived on Earth, but his eyes were still lined with shadows and Clint had a suspicion that not all of that thin frame was natural slimness. He needed to eat. At the ten minute mark, Clint set his parcel down and pushed it into the perimeter with one toe. The sliding apparently caught the trickster's attention.

"Why do you insist on this ritual?" Loki might not look his best, but his voice was clear as ever. "Surely this is a waste of your time."

"You look hungry." Clint felt droplets of sweat down his back again. He'd need another wash after this.

"Yes, I'm sure Thor is concerned for my welfare."

"Thor isn't sending me." Clint laughed a little and shook his head. "He knows better."

"Does he?"

"If I come see you, it's on my own terms."

The trickster opened his eyes and sat up, fixing Clint with a hard steel stare. "Ah, yes - now I see. This is your test. Your personal trial to prove to yourself that your nightmares are contained."

"It could be that," Clint said. No reason to deny it if it meant Loki would keep talking. "Or maybe I just want you to eat something."

"Could it not be both?" Loki slid himself to his feet and began approaching the perimeter. Rather than meet his eyes, Clint scanned over how the clothing hung from the slighter frame. If these were Loki's old clothes, then Clint's suspicions were right: there were signs that the shoulders should be broader, the chest more filled out. Loki had lost weight since he'd worn them last, and on someone so tall the after-effects were obvious.

"Why aren't you eating, Loki?" Clint gestured at the dangling clothes while the trickster looked surprised by the question. "You've lost a lot of weight. Does eating not help?"

Loki chuckled. "An interrogation, Agent Barton? You should send your little spider for that."

"I know you better than her." Clint stepped back to give the trickster - and himself - space. "I was _there_, remember?"

"Do you find those memories pleasant, Agent Barton?" Loki was smiling wide; his teeth showed. "Do you long for those days of simplicity when you knew your place?"

"Do you?"

The transition from taunting amusement to anger cause the archer to take another step back. If there were glass between them, he had no doubt it would shatter under a hard blow by the trickster's fist. With nothing to vent his fury on, Loki turned instead to the only available target.

"Do not presume to understand me, Agent Barton. You spilled your secrets to me, and I remember them all."

_And who did you spill yours to?_ It was still too soon for that conversation. Clint raised his hands in surrender and turned to leave. He stopped halfway up and listened. The sound of a packet being picked up and shuffled in a pair of hands, and then - nothing. The crinkling disappeared in an instant. Clint, unable to help his curiosity, descended the steps once more to see what the trickster might be doing.

Loki was not holding the packet. It wasn't on the stone tablet, it wasn't on the floor. Where the hell did it go? Clint stepped into the room and looked in the corners. Had the trickster thrown it away to be cleaned up later?

No.

Clint looked at Loki, who looked back at him with an oddly blank expression. Whatever emotion he was feeling, he didn't want Clint to know. Clint began to walk the perimeter in a slow circle, thinking that the trickster might have tossed the food behind where he couldn't see.

No.

Clint froze.

The packet was gone. Completely gone.

_Well shit,_ he thought. _This is bad._

He'd seen Loki vanish objects, most notably his own armor. Yet here, within this perimeter and those chains, the trickster's magic should be bound and useless.

Clint felt another droplet scour his spine. The tension in his shoulders and chest doubled; he rubbed a hand against his chest to try and relieve some of the pressure. He looked at Loki, who looked back at him with that same blank expression.

"Well?" Loki raised his eyebrows. One word was more than enough. He wanted to know what Clint would do with this information, now that he understood how powerless the god was _not_.

_Sometimes the big cats roar or bite or scratch at you. Let them. If they can be themselves, they'll feel more comfortable around you._

"Eat something," Clint said, and walked back up the stairs and away from the cell.


	16. Healing

_Please could you stop the noise, I'm trying to get some rest_

_From all the unborn chicken voices in my head_

* * *

Lynn liked her time alone the best. It was quiet and her thoughts were uninterrupted. She needed these moments to think herself out of the circles she knew would take over her entire life if she wasn't given the chance to work through this on her own. She was grateful for help, and she was surrounded by support, but not one of the Avengers could be called a psychiatrist. It was an eerie thought, to realize that the people most suited to defending the Earth were also least suited to dealing with emotional problems.

She huffed and scolded herself, the gentle breeze from the window brushing her loose hair back. The thoughts never quite went away, but she'd found with effort she could push them aside for a time. The times were getting longer, and she was stubborn enough not to give up.

No matter how badly she wanted to.

"Are you unable to sleep, or do you choose to remain awake?"

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It must be night; Loki never came during the day to bother her. She knew he came for a specific reason and sometimes she thought she might ask. She always decided against it. He never stayed for long, and as a once-aspiring scientist she was also interested in how an alien thought.

"I can sleep. You fixed that."

Clothing rustled. He was pacing nearby. He often paced for no reason she could tell. She thought he might just be the type of person - alien - with an inordinate amount of excess energy. She knew humans who struggled to sit still as well. Tony Stark was in perpetual motion as far as she could tell. Even sitting down, she heard things rattling as he fidgeted.

"Then you are making a choice." She nodded. He could see, so the gesture wasn't wasted. "Does sleep find you ill?"

"Does it you?"

The rustling paused, and then a quiet chuckle. She liked to turn his more awkward questions back on him. He found this amusing for his own reasons, and so she wasn't discouraged from the habit.

"I do not require sleep as you mortals do."

"Is that an Æsir thing?" Lynn couldn't help it. She wanted to know how these aliens worked. Sometimes he replied to such questions, and sometimes he dodged into a new topic. She didn't mind either way. One revealed biology of his species, the other revealed thought processes.

He answered this time. "Yes, although I have a particular ability as well. I am capable of sustaining myself under considerable duress."

There were several potential questions from that. She bit her bottom lip. It was a prompt - he _wanted_ her to ask something - she just didn't know _what_.

Well, she knew what she was most curious about.

"You mean your magic?"

The rustling stopped. She imagined both eyebrows raised and calculating. She sighed.

"I wish I could see it." The regret in her voice was honest.

The breeze ever persisted, carrying the strong scents of Asgardian life. In a moment, a new scent joined in and caught her attention. She creased her brow and inhaled more deeply - yes, it was definitely -

The sounds around her altered. Instead of the quiet Asgardian night, she heard the gentle clinking of glasses against saucers, murmured conversations and boiling water. She loosened her arms and stood from her perch on the sill to walk closer to the noises. As she moved, the voices became clearer to hear - a college-level conversation about philosophy. She turned her head to listen to another conversation. A couple out on a date. And there, straight ahead, the sudden sound of a cash register opening as someone completed their order.

She breathed in and closed her eyes. A variety of coffees and teas forever permeated the air of the coffee house. Tears stung her eyelids and she hugged herself. A previous life, lost and gone.

She stepped again - _eight, nine, ten, the bed is just ahead now -_ and realized that she'd made her way across the floor without tripping over a single object. They were still in her room.

"It is an illusion." Loki's voice had an academic air as he launched into lecture mode. "Sight is the easiest sense to fool, but not the only one. The most difficult is the sense of smell. I was unable to deceive the nose for many years."

She waved a hand ahead of her, expecting to find one of the tables of the shop at some point.

"You won't feel anything. I have yet to perfect my illusions. They will collapse when touched."

She pulled her hand back and gripped her elbows. The god of mischief was creating a marvelous illusion for her, even with the limitations to her experience. In fact, the illusion was crafted specifically to take those limits into account. She wiped a hand across her eyes and tried to think of something to say that didn't sound wanting, in light of his efforts on her behalf. She came up with nothing, and settled on paltry thanks.

"It's amazing." She couldn't know his look without feeling his face, but she guessed it was close to a satisfied smirk.

She enjoyed the rich scent of fresh coffee and tea for a while, until finally the voices and smells began to fade. He might have left. She was about to ask if he were there when he broke the silence.

"You have not asked me why."

She blinked and tilted her head. "Why what?"

"Why I attacked your realm." He paused and waited. When she remained quiet, he persisted. "All of Thor's mortals would have asked by now. The hawk already has, though he should know better than any of them."

It took her a moment to remember that Clint's code name was Hawkeye. "Why would Clint know?"

It was maddening to know Loki was communicating via body language she couldn't see. Did he look concerned? Contrite? Annoyed? Why didn't he answer? The question must be awkward in some way she didn't know.

"You have not answered my initial question."

The obvious dodge didn't justify a response, so she gave none. She had learned through these conversations that if she said nothing for long enough, Loki would fill the silence.

"You may ask your hawk. I believe it is more his story to tell than mine."

Good enough, although she didn't understand why he had to be _her _hawk. And the other humans here were "Thor's." Why did everyone need to have an owner?

If Loki wasn't going to answer, that left one topic unresolved. She shrugged.

"I guess I don't think it matters."

"Does not _matter_? That I attempted to subjugate your world?"

Lynn reached a hand out and found the bed. She turned so that she could sit on it.

"Yeah. I mean, you're a trickster, right?" She shrugged. "I looked them up when I was looking _you_ up. They don't really...have morals."

She warmed to the topic. "They're all over the place. They're actually really interesting. A trickster god doesn't think the same as anyone else. They do things to see what will happen. Their only moral code seems to be 'why not?'"

She clawed one hand and rested it against the palm of the other. She wiggled her fingers as though she were holding a spider. "In Africa he was the spider god Anansi. A lot of native Americans had Coyote. Crows and ravens come up too. Lots of animal connections - maybe because of thinking so different from everyone else? Anyway, the Norse put you as their trickster."

Lynn had done more research on the topic than she'd admitted to anyone, and now that she had a chance to use that knowledge and explain a trickster god to himself, she wasn't about to pass it up. If any details were _too_ incorrect, she assumed Loki would stop her mid-sentence to set the record straight.

"The difference between you and the others, I guess, is that you're _real_. Well, the Norse _met_ you, right? And decided that you fit the trickster role, so they put you there." She shrugged. "I assumed it fit all the way."

"This is why you do not ask?" He sounded both baffled and intrigued.

"Well, if I ask, you'll just say 'why not?' Seems like a waste of a question."

"And yet you know that the stories are not accurate in their depictions."

Lynn scoffed and raised her hand to tick off counts. "You tried to attack Earth because of - things." One finger down. "You tricked the Avengers into fighting each other." A second finger. "Clint says you can teleport, but you _didn't run away_ when they beat you. And you're visiting me every night for no clear reason." The third and fourth fingers collapsed. "I'm sure you have reasons, and they're probably great reasons. But I also know you can still use magic, and you visit here every night so you must still be able to teleport. And for some reason you're _still here_."

She crossed her arms and looked in the direction she'd last heard his voice. "Seems like a prime candidate for 'just because.'"

Loki laughed, and his inappropriate response only made her surer of her theory that his mind did not function the same way other minds did.

"The mortal girl has so thoroughly discovered my secrets, which I hide well from all others, including those that raised me."

She lifted her chin. "I can't _see_, so now I hear better."

It was intended as a joke and he laughed, which made her feel triumphant. She grinned and shrugged again. A hand raised to scratch at a phantom itch on the back of her head, where the gag had clamped together.

"'Those that raised you' is a weird way to talk about your family."

"They are not my family."

His temper had flared; his voice lowered and became gravelly with annoyance. She just felt confused.

"But you said they raised you."

"I am not related by blood."

Lynn creased her brow, then took in a sharp breath. "Oh," she said. "You were adopted?"

No response. She waited several minutes before deciding that he must have left in a fit of...what? Shame? Anger? She wished she could at least see his expressions.

"Well," she said to the empty room, "I guess that's a yes."

* * *

"Rise and shine cupcake!"

Lynn threw the blanket over her head and pressed a hand to her ear. Why did Stark have to be so _loud_? In another moment, a breeze rushed over her as he yanked the blanket off.

"Get up! Daddy has Christmas presents he spent _all night_ putting together. Now he wants to see the look on your face when you unwrap them."

"It's not Christmas," she said as she sat up and twisted to drape her legs over the edge of the bed. It was tall enough that she could just reach the floor with her toes. "Is it?" In all honesty, it could be. Time was fluid and she didn't know how long she'd been away from...home.

"It is for you. Stand up."

She stood and found herself being adjusted and prodded. Tony could not be called gentle. He moved her head where he wanted, shoved what felt like glasses - _glasses?_ - on her nose and ears, planted an earphone in her right ear and continued adjusting both her head and the device until he seemed satisfied.

"Say hello," Tony said, and before she could ask to who a voice burst into her right ear.

"Good morning Miss Creed." She jerked and grabbed the headphone; Tony's calloused hands grabbed hers to stop her from yanking it out.

"Don't," he said, "it's JARVIS! Go on, say hello."

Lynn felt hesitant. Her voice cracked when she spoke. "H-hello?"

"Good morning Miss Creed," the pleasantly accented voice repeated. "My apologies for startling you."

Tony's hands were again prodding at her, placing a necklace around her throat and adjusting what felt like a large pendant hanging from the chain.

"He lives in here, so you've gotta keep this on. Well go on JARV, show off a little."

"Miss Creed, would you please look around the room?"

She blinked, then turned her head in a slow arc. In her ear, the voice narrated:

"The walls are a lovely cream color, and there is a tapestry featuring a hunting scene on the far left wall. The door is twenty paces ahead of you. The bed is gold and red - Mr. Stark appears to appreciate this fact. The floor is marble stone, and there are no impediments in your way. Would you like to move? I will guide you in your direction."

"Why?" She could barely whisper, she was so overwhelmed.

"Mr. Stark has created this device to assist you."

She shook where she stood and mouthed the word again, in the direction she'd last heard Tony's voice. Tony shrugged even though she couldn't see it. Then he realized she _couldn't_ see it, cursed her inability to read body language, and said, "I know what it's like to wake up to a new world. Come on, try it out."

He didn't wait for her to work up her nerve. Instead, he grabbed her hands and pulled her forward. JARVIS immediately spoke up.

"You will need to look to your sides if you would like me to describe anything other than Mr. Stark."

She laughed. "What _does_ he look like?"

"Haven't you seen his images in the past?"

Apparently, Stark liked a little sass in his A.I. At least, she assumed this was A.I. of some kind. That or another man was creepily watching her and narrating from the sidelines.

JARVIS described Tony's features and Lynn laughed when he pointed out the "impeccable beard." She suspected that Tony might have programmed that in as well.

"Did he make you?"

Tony cut in. "Hey, don't spill all my secrets JARV. Start impressing her."

"I am capable of seeing anything you look at with the spectacles Mr. Stark has provided, and narrating descriptions for your benefit."

"Anything I look at?" Tony, who could not hear one side of the conversation, apparently recognized where the question might have come from. He replied before JARVIS had a chance.

"Just like the human eye," Tony said. "And he can zoom, too." He dropped her hands and she stopped. As he moved away, JARVIS narrated his actions. Lynn stood transfixed, overwhelmed by the onslaught of information normally taken in by her eyes. When Tony returned, he grabbed one of her hands, spread her palm, and set something small, rectangular and cool into her hand.

"Look at it," he commanded. She turned her head down until JARVIS said he could see the - the -

"It is a microscope slide, Miss Creed."

She sucked in a sharp breath while the A.I. continued.

"There is a sample specimen already on the slide. If you would like, I will magnify to 1000 times and describe any organisms present."

She couldn't speak. She nodded. In another moment:

"This appears to be a drop of blood with both red blood cells and macrophages present. There is a total of one million, three-hundred ninety six thousand, seven-hundred and fifty three total cells present on the slide."

"You can count that?" She whispered, voice thick.

"Indeed, Miss Creed. I am able to provide an accurate cell count for your studies."

"My studies."

"Yep," Stark broke in. "Your studies, which you will _finish_."

"Tony -"

"Don't even bother. I always get what I want. You had an internship with the CDC lined up, didn't you?"

"Yes," she whispered. She was unable to raise her voice above this small-sounding noise. "It was supposed to be over the summer."

"Well, you've got a new one now with Stark Industries. I was looking to branch into the Southeast, get into the Research Triangle area. Been putting it off for years. You're my excuse.

"Of course," he continued when she stayed quiet, "you'll have to renounce your Georgia Peach title and become a North Carolina - uh -"

"They're the Tar Heels."

A pause. "Ok," Tony said slowly, "Tar Heel it is. You've transferred to NC State. They have a great micro program."

_Have I_, she thought. It was her most coherent one.

"Get JARVIS to take you around. There's something else we need to work at."

"JARVIS," she croaked, and the A.I. guided her back to a chair with no further prompting. She sat and leaned back, dazed. Without her higher functions at full capacity, she found herself pondering on the smell of this room. She knew the smell of _her_ room by heart, and this was not it. There was food here. A variety of food, if she smelled correctly. Tony was bustling around - she knew it was him because he was _never quiet_, muttering while he moved - and she realized the angles of his sounds were all wrong. Either this room faced the opposite way of her own and had more furniture to dodge, or her room had received a makeover in a few seconds of time.

"Where are we?"

Tony either ignored or didn't hear the question. JARVIS supplied instead.

"It appears that we are in Mr. Odinson's room. There is a table covered in various foods thirteen paces to your right..."

JARVIS monologued the entire room to her in one ear while Tony grumbled in the other. That would take some adjusting to. As her sluggish brain started to kick in again, she raised a hand in front of her face and interrupted the A.I.

"Can you magnify my hand?"

"Yes, although the image will be less precise than a sample on a clear glass slide."

_That's amazing._ Her mind raced with possibilities. Could this device be used as a diagnostic tool? A doctor peering into a person's throat and _seeing _the strep throat bug, instead of having to use a swab? She started to ask the viability of such an idea when a large object was laid onto her lap.

"Oof," she said, more from surprise than pain. She rested both hands on the object and froze.

"Check it out," Stark said. "I think you'll like this model."

Lynn lifted the guitar into the normal position - backwards to someone else, as she was left-handed - and strummed. The strings hadn't been tuned in a while. She ran her hand down along the base and felt a notch under her index finger. A hand-carved notch that indicated a pair of letters. Her initials.

"How are your wrists feeling?"

"Sore," she managed. Her voice cracked.

"Bruce said physical therapy. Go on, play something."

"Tony," another voice chimed in, this one female. "Give her some space, would you?"

"That is Dr. Jane Foster," JARVIS informed her. "She looks somewhat annoyed with Mr. Stark. She is approaching you and offering a hand to shake."

Lynn held out her hand and Dr. Foster grabbed it for a firm shake. Her hand felt small and delicate and Lynn softened her own grip to avoid causing discomfort.

"Hi! We haven't really met, I'm Jane Foster. I helped build the machine they used to find you."

Lynn jolted and pulled her hand back. "Thanks."

"Agent Romanoff has entered the room," JARVIS said a moment before Natasha's questioning voice hit her. "Why do you have glasses?"

"Tony gave them to me." Lynn felt defensive and nervous.

"Why is she in this room?" Natasha again, this time directed elsewhere.

Tony huffed. "Because she needed to leave that room, that's why! Better to test out the device in a room she didn't have memorized."

"Dr. Foster is about to touch your glasses," JARVIS said a moment before fingers tapped the sides of her lenses.

"What do they do?" Lynn felt the thing around her neck be lifted, presumably for inspection. Lynn's thoughts began to spiral as the voices continued on without her input.

"Miss Creed," the newest addition said into her ear. "Miss Creed. Your heart rate is jumping. I believe you are experiencing -"

"_Don't touch me!_" Lynn flung both arms out, shoving forward to push Jane back. She rose from the chair, gripping her guitar by the neck, and panted. The quiet was a relief. She knew, intellectually, that she was being irrational. These people were here to help her, not hurt her. Not take her back to -

"Lynn." Natasha's voice again. Soothing, quiet. Talking her down from the edge of whatever this was. "Lynn, we've all backed away. We're out of reach."

_My name is Lynn Creed_, she thought. _And I think I have a problem._

She was calming herself down in a succession of slow, steady breaths. The voice in her ear didn't make her jump this time.

"Miss Creed, your heart is slowing. I believe the attack has subsided."

She pressed her free hand to her chest and took one long, deep breath. She held it for a count of ten, then released it into the air.

"Sorry," she said. "I got a little...overwhelmed."

"Hey, it's alright Tar Heel." Tony sounded jovial but the undertone was concerned. "That doesn't get you out of a song though."

"Song?" Jane sounded excited. "What song?"

"Steve asked her to play something for us. I'm not letting her forget it."

"Classy, Stark." According to JARVIS, Natasha stepped closer. "We need to talk, Lynn."

Tony broke in with an indignant demand. "We who?"

"Jane, Sif, and me. Thor is telling Sif to come here now."

"What is this, girl's night out?"

Jane grinned. "Know any Indigo Girls?"

Lynn, warming to the tease, smiled wickedly. "And Tori, and Sheryl."

"Gah," Tony said, "I'll leave!"

He nearly ran into Sif in his scurried exit, who stepped aside to let him pass. With JARVIS dictating every movement of the room, Lynn began to feel more secure. She regained her bearings and sat on the chair, repositioning the guitar to begin plucking the strings and tuning it. She paused. Normally she tuned with her voice, but she never tuned with others around. She swallowed.

"JARVIS, can you play an E?"

The pure tone echoed in her ear and she plucked the correct string. Tuning gave her balance and calm. She oriented herself both to the guitar and her surroundings as the strings sang quiet one-note melodies.

The women were gathered in a semicircle around her chair, sitting either on cushions or another chair. Sif was to her left, Natasha straight ahead, and Jane to her right. Sif looked less sure of her purpose here, but Jane looked intent and Natasha focused on a goal.

Lynn waited until Jane nervously cleared her throat. "Lynn, we really want to talk to you."

"Alright." Pluck, pluck. She twisted the peg until A was pitch perfect. Since none of the women complained about the sounds of a guitar being tuned, she kept on.

"Sif," Natasha said, "how hard has your life been?"

Lynn's hands froze in position. She pressed her pinkie hard against the still-vibrating string to silence it. Sif answered carefully.

"How do you mean, Agent Romanoff?"

"As a woman warrior, in Asgard. What's it been like?"

"Difficult." Pain, doubt, hesitation, and no small dose of resolve. Lynn slid her fingers across two frets and began to tune another note.

"My guidance counselor once told me that I shouldn't bother with astrophysics because I'd never 'grasp the math.'" Jane used air quotes to indicate a direct quote. Lynn winced.

"It's a good way to get information," Natasha said. "Put on a nice dress and bat your eyelashes, they'll talk about anything because they think you won't understand."

Lynn hesitated. "It's different in micro. There's been lots of women in the field."

The three of them remained quiet for a long moment, until Natasha asked: "Do you want to go back to Earth, Lynn?"

Lynn flinched. "Tony said he's got -"

Jane interrupted her. "It's not Tony's decision. It's yours." She sounded confident. Lynn felt queasy.

"I have to go back at some point."

"Sure," Jane agreed. "When you're ready."

"Thor will not allow you to be taken against your will." Sif considered. "And neither would Steve. I believe the idea would trouble him greatly."

Lynn set the guitar to lean against her chair, then leaned back and scratched the back of her neck. "I do _have_ to go back at some point. Delaying that doesn't make it not true." She bit her bottom lip. "I don't like putting off the, the -"

"Inevitable?" Natasha's guess made her flinch again.

"Yeah."

Jane reached a hand forward, hesitated, then placed it on Lynn's arm. Lynn shivered but did not pull away. The four women sat in companionable silence, three offering unspoken support to the fourth. It was Sif who broke the spell by pushing herself to her feet with a creak of leather.

"By the by, you must learn to defend yourself. It will give you greater confidence."

"But I -"

"We're all doing it." Jane squeezed her arm. "It'll get the men to back off, if they don't see us as totally helpless."

Lynn remembered how delicate Jane's fingers felt in hers. She stood and crossed her arms, uncertain. "I'm not sure how much I can do yet."

Natasha smiled. "That's alright. We'll start slow for you and Jane."

"Gee, thanks," Jane grumbled. The other three laughed.

* * *

Tony, Thor, Clint, Bruce and Steve were in the banquet hall enjoying one of Volstagg's boisterous tales. Steve was half-listening to the story, twisting the goblet in his hand against the table in a perpetual circle and staring blankly ahead. Tony nudged him with an elbow, which drew Steve's attention to the inventor.

"Hm?"

"Stop staring, it's rude."

Steve blinked and looked ahead, realizing too late that he'd been staring at Hogun. "Sorry about that." Hogun didn't acknowledge him, which made him feel more foolish. He flushed and sat up straight in his chair. Clint leaned over.

"What's up, Cap?"

Steve lacked the gift of deceit. He thought for a moment of saying he'd talk to Clint about this later, until he realized that everyone else he would want to consult about the matter was present at the table. He would've preferred Sif and Natasha also be present, but they were busy with Lynn.

So he launched right into it.

"Clint, what are you up to with Loki?"

The ripple effect reached Volstagg last, who was in the middle of an exciting recount of his arm being nearly bitten off by a raging beast with "fangs the size of Heimdall's sword." Steve wasn't certain if this was an awkward type of silence because Barton neither flinched nor looked concerned. He just looked thoughtful.

"How did you know?"

"Sif mentioned a conversation you had with Natasha."

Clint glanced at Fandral, who looked confused. At least the ruse had worked on _one _of them.

"I'm working on gaining his trust."

"On anyone's orders?" _Did either Fury or the Council request this of you?_

"No." Clint nodded at Thor. "And his mom knows about it."

"You involved the queen?" Clint nodded in response to Thor, who seemed surprised by this part of the revelation. He already knew of Barton's efforts, but that his own mother - a woman whose gifts included detailed visions of the future - also threw her efforts into the cause gave the thunderer more hope for the mission.

"That is good news indeed. It it possible that she has already determined the success of your efforts."

Steve shook his head. "But what are they for? Why are you trying to make nice with the guy who -"

"I remember what he did to me, Captain." Barton's tension reflected in the tightening of his eyes. "I also remember how tough he is. We shot, exploded and beat that guy until he couldn't move - and then he got up and walked away."

"We know he can take a lot, Barton," said Bruce. "The Other Guy wasn't really holding back when he ragdolled the guy."

Clint looked around to see if any one of them would realize the purpose without having to be led to it. He sighed at the blank expressions. Everyone except Tony was frozen in stark confusion. Tony looked like he was on the cusp of understanding. Clint gave him the benefit of the doubt and continued to wait.

"Thor," Tony began slowly, "how old is your dad?" Clint sat back and waited for the conversation to progress without him. Thor looked confused by Tony's question but answered in kind.

"The All-Father is several millennia old."

"And you?"

"Just past one of your millennia."

Tony snapped his fingers. "Shit! By the time he tries again we'll all be dead!"

"Exactly," Clint confirmed. Fandral looked scandalized.

"Now see this, friends, we would not allow him to make another attempt on your realm!"

It was Thor who replied, with a heavy tone and heavier heart. "You have seen how far the humans have come in such a short span of time, Fandral. Can we say where they will be in another century? Can we say how our relations will be?" Thor nodded at Clint. "His attempt is the best possible path: one of mutual respect and rehabilitation."

Volstagg scoffed. "Surely Loki will resist such an attempt to win his favor? He is ever stubborn and will see through this deceit!"

"He may," Thor acknowledged. "He has already questioned Clint once before." Thor spoke to Clint now. "Are you certain that you are comfortable with this task? Someone else might try, and relieve you of this strain."

Clint waved a hand. "I'm fine. I have experience with this."

It was a good thing Natasha wasn't present. More than one set of human eyes would have focused on her after that declaration. Bruce spoke up.

"Anything we can do to help?"

"Just stay away from him. I need him to -" Barton realized that "associate me with food" might not lead to the best response from Loki's older brother, who after all still saw his brother as his _brother_ - "- see me as a friend before we throw everyone else at him."

The men mulled this over. Thor was the first to nod, followed by Tony and then the Warriors Three. Steve sighed.

"Alright, Clint, but you call us in if needed. Got it?"

"Surely the lovely Lady Natasha would prove an excellent shield companion in such an endeavor," Fandral announced. "Where is the lass at this moment?"

"On the training field with Sif," Clint replied. "Killing things."

Thor remained oblivious to Clint's protective tension and was disinclined to discourage Fandral's interest in the Lady Natasha. The thunderer was certain that Fandral could learn a considerable amount about mortal women from a woman such as the Black Widow. He would speak to her quietly, to ensure she knew that Fandral was to suffer no serious injury in her care. Otherwise, he would allow his old friend to flirt as he may, and learn the hard way that his attentions were not universally welcome.

It was little wonder that the All-Father found mortals the proper form of Asgardian education and discipline.

"The ladies Sif and Natasha are going to teach Jane Foster and Lynn Creed the art of self-defense."

Steve jolted. "They're what?" Clint looked less enthusiastic about the idea, and Tony looked thoughtful. It was Volstagg who chimed in next.

"This seems most reasonable! Thor will worry less over his lady's safety, and I dare say Lady Lynn will benefit from knowing she could put up a worthy fight."

Clint shot from his chair and twirled his head in a small circle. His neck let out a small crack. He looked at Steve, said "You coming?" and strolled from the banquet hall with purpose. Steve stood to follow, and soon the remaining moved as a group to observe the women at their craft.

* * *

After some debate, Natasha decided that Lynn should keep the device and glasses for now and remove them when asked. She and Sif decided on a work-out together which combined endurance with basic strength, and then set to determining the best method to warm up the humans without boring the Asgardian. Jane piped up and suggested yoga, which Lynn admitted to knowing a few moves to. With JARVIS to narrate she could follow the remaining commands with only a slight delay. Sif enjoyed learning new practices from Midgard, as she had learned boxing from Steve, and was interested to see this practice in action.

And so, when the men approached the training yard, the women were in the middle of their yoga-based warm up and had just taken to the Down Dog position.

Several pieces of information were communicated at once. That the women all appeared graceful and sleek despite the awkward pose was appreciated by every male gaze, though Bruce and Steve both flushed a bit. All of the men were of the opinion that such a position would look downright foolish when performed by a man, rather than elegant and appealing as it apparently was when performed by a woman.

Height differences were also on display. Sif's long arms and legs led to her towering over all three of her companions. Natasha's bare arms bulged with hard-won musculature. Jane and Lynn both represented the more supple versions of the female gender, with smooth arms and long unbound hair that tumbled about their shoulders.

All of the women were in some version of workout clothes. Sif had her own on Asgard which her Æsir friends were accustomed to seeing. Jane and Natasha had simple black pants and white shirts which clung to their torsos. Lynn had, apparently, been given a set of Sif's own clothing, as evidenced by the thick wads of cloth pillowed around her feet and the tight band holding her shirt and pants in place. And yet, despite her lack of height, she managed to fill out the clothing in other ways.

"Now," Natasha was saying, "lower your head and chest so that they're level with the floor, then swoop back up so your arms are straight and your head is up. Then you push back to Down Dog. JARVIS, be specific about this one."

"I say," Fandral said as the women executed the maneuver.

"Back off," Clint growled. Natasha narrowed her eyes at the men while Jane raised a hand to wave and instead tumbled to her side. Lynn laughed when JARVIS told her what happened and pressed her knees against the ground, pushing back to rest on her thighs. Sif was the last to give up; she pushed herself to her feet from the Cobra Pose, strode over to Fandral, and punched him squarely in the shoulder.

"You have interrupted us!"

"It was not our intention," Fandral protested.

"Are you alright, Jane?" Thor stepped forward to check on his lady while Natasha stood up and dusted her hands off. Behind her, Clint took Lynn's arm and helped her to her feet.

"Yes, Thor, I'm fine. Just got unbalanced." Jane let her worried beau help her to her feet and gave him a peck on the cheek in appreciation. Thor beamed at her.

"That was an impressive-looking maneuver! Would you care to demonstrate again for me later?"

Jane blushed and stumbled through her reply while Sif raised her eyebrows and Lynn laughed. Natasha remained as cool as ever.

Bruce was eyeing Lynn with a critical stare. "Why do you have glasses?"

"None of your business," Tony replied. Lynn, taking the hint, let that reply stand without correction.


	17. Three Days

Loki was hyper-aware of the passage of time around him. Though he could see neither night nor day from his prison, he used his visits to deduce the passage of a full day. Each time he appeared to Lynn Creed, one day had come and gone. In a way he was grateful to the All-Father for the ultimatum. Without it, Loki might have allowed the weeks to dull into drab boredom, and he had never handled boredom well.

Loki had three days remaining before Odin All-Father slew his youngest son.

The trickster inspected the shackles on his wrists with wry annoyance. That they were useless mattered not - he still could not find the key to unlocking them and removing them from his person. Though they did not repel his magic, they kept him locked within this prison indefinitely. He would have to resort to an unbecoming tactic to disengage the chains, and the thought left a sour taste in his mouth.

The door to his cell creaked open and soft footsteps began their descent. He knew this could not be Barton. The hawk made no effort to soften his footfalls. The same criteria removed Thor as a possibility and the All-Father would not stoop so low as to visit the prisoner before his time was up. Besides, the footsteps were not travelling alone. Odin preferred his judgments against his sons to be carried out away from the eyes of others, in the privacy of his own rage.

It was with no small amount of chagrin that he watched Queen Frigga and two of her ladies-in-waiting settle into view. He bared his teeth in a grimace of what he called pain and might be in truth called fear. Why would she come to him _now_?

Of course he knew the reason, as surely as he knew who was involved in Barton's unwarranted visits. The trickster realized, then, that he had not seen Barton in two full days. He shoved the thought aside and turned his ire on the woman before him.

"Lacking in ravens so you sent a hawk, Frigga? I never imagined you the jealous type."

Frigga pursed her lips and scoured him with her eyes. She turned and waved her ladies away. The women bowed to their queen before ascending once more to the safety of the guards. Frigga turned to face Loki once more. She clasped her hands before her waist and tilted her head back enough to bring regal countenance.

Loki tsked. "I will not be baited."

"I should think I know your weaknesses better than any other, my son." Frigga's eyes were hard and certain. Loki fought the urge to wilt under the queen's stare. "I know, for instance, that you could never resist your tongue. Silence has ever been a burden to your ears."

The trickster rubbed at his wrists where hand joined arm, just below the point where the manacles started. Frigga felt her heart clench to see his agitation. His eyes darted in all directions, watching for danger from any side. Her youngest knew fear intimately now, the type which haunted and persisted well beyond reason. There was no chance of attack in this small room, surrounded by the castle's protective walls, and yet still he sought out the dangers in the shadows.

It meant, of course, that he knew what the shadows concealed. Frigga wanted to know how long this knowledge had plagued him. Was it before the void's darkness? Heimdall had revealed Loki's declarations from the Bifrost of the existence of pathways outside of the known limbs of Yggdrasil.

_Which pathways have you visited, my son?_ Frigga felt tears prick her eyes and worked to push them back. _What horrors haunt you now?_

She did not need to ask for she had witnessed his fall herself, so many years ago when her husband handed her a wailing Jötun changeling and she saw nothing beyond the devastation his future foretold. She could not reveal her knowledge, she could merely act upon it and bear witness to the results, be they tragic or hopeful.

She had told Loki a fragment, against her own commands and better judgment. As her husband's actions held purpose, so did her own. The burden fell upon others to play their anticipated roles.

Loki had ever been the outcast from her plans. He deviated from his destiny and remade fate when he commanded his powers. As a boy, for a time, the beacon of death shining in her youngest son's eyes had dimmed, fading away under the weight of his family's unconditional love and acceptance. But the boy had grown into a man, and the man had seen himself tossed by the wayside for the superior elder.

And then the man learned he was no man at all.

She had embraced him after he killed Laufey and seen the truth as he stared deep into her eyes and assured her that the Jötuns would pay for their actions. Thor appeared, the brothers fought, her youngest fell and Frigga was left to believe that in losing a son she and Odin had bypassed Ragnarok.

That son was never returned. Instead they found themselves housing this creature instead, born of broken pride and unfulfilled promise. He had been told he was born to be a king. He could not later be blamed for believing the lies he was fed from infancy.

He was watching her, waiting for her to break the silence. Frigga knew better than to relinquish her most powerful weapon against him.

"Do you know of my sentencing?"

Frigga looked about the room with investigative intent. He sounded as though something were added to his imprisonment terms, yet the room appeared the same. She raised her eyebrows at him in silent question.

"The All-Father tires of this charade, Lady Queen. Three days hence he will slaughter the wayward sheep of the family and purify his household once more."

Loki spoke with soft, delicate kindness. His gaze was gentle, even pitying. She hadn't known, and even through his rage toward her he felt the need to soften the news as much as he was able.

No effort he made could have helped to soften this blow. Frigga felt herself torn asunder through her chest, a sudden rush of blood and heady adrenaline blinding her for a moment. That Odin would make such a decision at all - that he would decide as much and _not tell her_ -

"Is this a trick, Loki?" Her voice was sharp and commanding, and he snapped to attention from years of trained reflex.

"No, Frigga. There is no deception."

He might not be lying. It was hard to believe such a thing of the trickster, but it might be the truth. And yet...and yet death lingered about him, the invisible shroud no less noticeable to her for its bearer's ignorance.

And though she loved him and would feel that connection as long as she lived, she considered it possible that he might have rejected her along with his father and brother, and that her love might not be reciprocated any longer. She had no doubt of his love before; even in his madness, it was she who he gripped and pledged vengeance to, that she might look upon him with the same pride and trust she bestowed on her oldest. The trust that Loki, and not Thor, would fix the wrong committed against her husband.

And then Thor had come, and it was a wrong inflicted by Loki himself that the youngest now needed to fix. Betrayal was a bitter taste in her mouth, and the proximity of the source served further grief.

Odin had once accused her of not seeing the man for the boy, and she could not claim this declaration a falsehood. Even as she looked at Loki now, fidgeting and anxious and pricking at her closest familial relations with easy grace, she saw the small boy with bright eyes who begged for another story, just one more, before being tucked into bed.

The memory brought a surge of hope. Loki saw the calculation flash through her. He straightened himself and narrowed his eyes, prepared to meet her new method of assault.

He was unprepared.

"It is quite the story, is it not? The story of our family."

"Yes, your family is a fascination even to mortals," Loki snapped. "I have heard they created a full mythos to better worship your kin."

"_Our_ kin, yes." She stepped forward to stand at his perimeter, within reach of his grasp should he choose to attack her.

"I am not your son." She could see him straining to keep his voice steady and calm. "You are bonded to your husband by devotion, and your son by blood, but I -"

"You are bonded to us as well, Loki. A bond forged by death and hardship."

He shook his head in denial. She waved his dismissal aside and stepped into the circle, exposing herself entirely to his whims.

"Once, a great and mighty warrior returned home to his woman with a tiny babe in his arms. The babe was blue as the midnight sky when the moon is shining, and he cried for his mother - his mother, who might be dead or fighting still. Who might even then have sought out her young son, who had been abandoned to a cruel fate by his own father."

Loki did not step away. He strode forward and gripped her upper arms tightly. He squeezed and bared his teeth at her. She thought he might gnash his teeth as a rabid dog.

She looked up at him and reveled in the touch of his hands. It was the first time he'd touched her since his return. It was not a kind or loving grasp, but she was his mother and so took her fill where she could.

"He had a new mother the moment he was in my arms. I saw death, it's true - and I told your father as much, that he might know that this was a son who required special handling and care - and Odin looked back at me, and I could see that he already knew that you would not reflect our better virtues, that this was the pull that drew him to bring you here, rather than another family to be raised in obscurity -"

"Away from his uses," her son cracked out. "You forget, Frigga, he told me his intentions."

"I forget nothing." She raised a hand to touch his face; he leaned away and released her to escape her affection. She let her hurt show through, and he turned away. "There is a purpose to everything your father does. And if there was no purpose in the beginning, he will create one in the end."

Loki sucked in a sharp breath and turned narrowed, suspicious eyes to her. "You are implying that no such plan existed when he first collected me."

"Rescued," she corrected. And she said nothing further. Her youngest could not stand the silence. She understood his troubles. Thor was honest and confident, and lived in the moment without the need for further pondering. Loki planned, and schemed, and _thought_. She suspected his thoughts had turned to enemies of late - and her theory was confirmed when he lasted not ten full seconds before bursting forth into sound again.

"Tell me the truth. _All_ of the truth. Or leave. Now."

"Which truth would you care to hear, my son?"

He flinched and looked away. She walked to his podium, the hard slate no comfort to her mother's instincts of demanding a warm, comfortable bed for her child, and sat upon the edge. The movement to do so lacked the eternal grace of the Queen of Asgard; she was not here as the Queen. Only the mother. And the mother could not be bothered to regale her wayward son with perpetual poise.

She patted the stone next to her to beckon him. He stared at her, then at the spot she indicated. He fluttered his fingers and intertwined them, stretching his hands to the point of pain. He wound one hand around the other and squeezed his fingers together.

She felt the impending decision, inevitable and unavoidable. Her countenance softened as a further enticement. His hands stilled as he gathered himself in and began to lean forward, to take the precious steps to carry him to her side and listen.

"Mother?"

The trickster shut down in one instant. His hands dropped to his sides and his eyes hardened to granite. Thor's heavy footsteps echoed through the prison as he trundled down the steps and froze upon seeing Frigga's position.

Loki turned his entire body to face his older brother and took one step to the side, in front of the queen. Frigga slid from the podium and reached to touch his arm. He tensed when she made contact but otherwise remained still.

"At peace, Loki," she said. "It is only your brother."

"No, Frigga." He snarled at Thor. "It was _never_ my brother." And he rounded on her, and grabbed her wrist, and twisted her arm before Thor's shocked cry reached her ears.

The shroud of death howled in his eyes.

He was already being dragged away, removed by her oldest and thrown back. Loki, tossed against his podium, gripped the stone under his hands and lost himself to rage.

"This was your leash, was it not, Frigga? The bonds of family - ever meant to restrain, to force attachments -"

Thor pushed Frigga behind himself and brandished Mjolnir. She realized, too late, the sign she had missed earlier. Loki stepping before her in a protective manner, blocking Thor's approach. An acknowledgement of kinship, no matter how small, and she had missed it and called Thor his brother. She called herself ten times the fool for losing herself to the sentiment of having both sons in her presence, instead of dismissing Thor away and preserving the moment she'd nearly had with her damaged younger son.

He was lost to her now. She could see this in his stance, in his furious glare. He was telling himself: _never again_. _I will never allow her to fool me again_.

Frigga took Thor's arm and pulled him away. He resisted for a moment's time, staring at his brother, then moved to follow her hand.

"Come," she said to Thor as they ascended the steps of the prison. "We will have words with your father."

* * *

"You are troubled," a voice said behind him.

Steve had come to the practice yard with a vague idea of expelling frustration against a wooden dummy. He had taken care to set up the tallest figure he found, planking it into the ground and testing the sturdiness with his own weight and strength. He'd taken position thirty feet away and braced himself. And with one sharp toss of his shield, he'd cut the wooden dummy in two.

He was sitting with his forearms resting on his knees and staring at the destroyed figure across the yard. He was a soldier. He understood the price of war and was capable of cold, calculated decisions when the situation called for them. He'd become a captain only by virtue of a PR-friendly name. He'd done his best to earn that title. Still, in the dark of night with no one to observe him, he had wondered whether his decisions were correct.

Now he was a captain again, of the strongest fighting force on Earth. A force so powerful that they contained a god and had tamed the savage Hulk. A force so merciless that when given the opportunity to nuke their enemies out of existence, not one of them had spoken dissent.

Not one.

Sif sat on the ground beside him and clasped her hands. He remembered how graceful she'd looked, doing Earth exercises. He'd already seen her strength and her passion for fighting. He knew she was waiting for him to offer to spar, his normal method of calming his nerves.

He'd found out too late that he didn't want to hit anything today. After cutting the wooden dummy in two, he'd felt sickened, reminded of too many times he'd made blood splatter from an enemy, red and purple alike.

He was almost sick at the thought. He wouldn't share his troubles with anyone, particularly not the hardened warrior at his side. The hard truth was, sometimes he was tired of killing. Instead he felt heartsick, and wondered if justice justified his actions.

Sometimes, he wished he'd been left frozen and alone.

"Come," Sif said, and took his arm to haul him to his feet. He stood and followed her in numb exhaustion. He hadn't slept a full night in months.

He didn't ask where they were going and she didn't fill the air with nervous chatter. They exited the main castle and veered for the stables housed within the high walls. She led him inside and ordered a young stable hand to prepare two mounts for a long ride. Steve began looking over the horses within, shocked to see that they appeared the same as the Earth variety. He stopped in front of the largest stall and stared at the oddity within. Sif approached and smiled.

"That is Sleipnir," Sif said. "Loki trained him many centuries ago, and now he is the All-Father's favored steed."

Steve looked across the stalls. "Are Asgardian horses tougher than Earth horses, like the people?"

"I am not sure." Sif reached to stroke a hand down Sleipnir's long nose. He beat three back hooves against the ground.

The stable hand collected them and led them outside, where two mares were saddled and prepared for their ride. Sif mounted the shorter of the two, a tan beauty with cream mane and tail. Steve mounted the chestnut.

Sif turned her horse and Steve's followed without his guidance. He was relieved. He'd ridden once, many years ago at a fair. He thought he could stay on top of the horse, but control and technique were another matter. His horse followed Sif's and he let the chestnut mare take the reins without a fight.

They rode from the castle walls, out into the surrounding forests and further away from the city of Asgard. Sif kept a steady pace without urging them into a gallop. Steve took the opportunity to observe the beauty of Asgard.

The forest, he thought, was nearly as lovely.

Sif guided her steed to a clearing and dismounted. Steve followed suit. The clearing was more of a small valley, with a bubbling spring cascading down a short rocky slope. Sif smiled at the sight.

"I come here to think nothing," she said. She took his arm and walked him next to the spring, where she sat and gestured for him to join her. He sat and rested his arms on his knees again, the same position she'd first found him in this day. The gentle, certain rush of water filled him and his thoughts finally began to slow and recede.

"Is this better?" Sif's shining eyes stared at him. The bright Asgardian sky was at her back.

"It's better," he said.

* * *

Natasha stood in the center of Clint's Asgardian quarters and took a deep breath.

She'd come looking for him and found him absent. She wasn't concerned, she just regretted that her friend - accomplice? benefactor? - was missing.

The room was small by Asgardian standards, large by Earth standards. The bed was unmade. A bureau leaned against the fall wall, and a table and four chairs sat in the center of the room for entertaining if necessary. Clint had set the stands for his bow and quiver on the table, and both were currently resting in their respective holders.

She took up the quiver and began a methodical inspection of the mechanical elements. It was an old habit born from the need to ensure that Clint's weapon functioned exactly as intended at all times. A small way to convince herself she was taking care of him, even when he wasn't present to see.

Her back suddenly clenched and her hands tightened against the quiver. She turned to look, half-expecting to see nothing, the monster concealed in the shadows outside of her vision. A terrible horror movie in real life.

Loki stood just behind her.

She followed her first impulse. She ripped an arrow from the sheath as his hands grabbed for her wrists. She twisted her arms down and into a rotation, forcing him to release her. She tried to follow up with a knee to his scrotum. She was too late. He pressed forward, using the combined bulk of himself and his armor to press her back against the table.

Her battles before were hard-won against mortals; his weight and his strength were painful reminders that she could not overpower him so easily. Natasha aimed the arrow for his eye. He caught her wrist and simply held her still with no effort. After a moment he lowered his hand, taking hers with it. His hands shifted to hold both her forearms to her sides in grips so tight she felt the bone straining.

For a disjointed moment, she wondered how tiny Jane felt when Thor was on top of her.

He was wild and desperate. Something had triggered his violence and he'd come looking for an outlet. She saw the bloodlust in him and waited for him to kill her. The quiver had fallen, cracking against the table before collapsing to the floor. Arrows littered both the table and the floor around them.

_So many weapons,_ she thought in amusement. _So many, and I'm going to die._

He held her suspended against the certainty of death. His eyes darted to the table behind her, then the ground covered in arrows. His grip loosened enough that her tension faded. But he did not let go.

He looked at her again. "I made you a bargain."

She said nothing.

"I do hate to go back on my bargains." His fists tightened again and she flinched at the pressure. He grinned to see her pain and leaned in, his lips whispering next to her ear. "I crave satisfaction. And I am not one to deny myself anything."

A rabid dog. That's all he was. A rabid dog which needed to be put down. Bursting with anger and bitterness, she snarled at him, "Clint was wrong about you."

Loki leaned back. "And what was he wrong about, my dear?"

"He thought there was something left to salvage," she spat. "Something to appeal to, to reason with. He was wrong. There's nothing left to save."

"Your hawk believes in rehabilitation." It was a statement of fact. She was living confirmation. "Will he be disappointed to learn that not all can, or wish, to be saved?"

"No," she said. "He knows that." Her hand tightened on the arrow she still clutched. He felt her muscles clench and looked down.

"You are his," he said flatly. He looked...regretful. Suddenly uncertain. Natasha was not one to miss an opening. She dove for the chance.

"Yes," she replied. She'd handle the fallout later. She needed to survive now.

Loki released both of her arms and stepped back, once. Resin arrows clattered quietly underneath his feet. He narrowed his eyes at her, and she found that she'd been wrong. He was no easy read at all.

He vanished.

Clint returned to his room over an hour later to find Natasha still propped against the table, gripping an arrow in one hand and staring into the distance. He froze. She looked fine, no worse for wear, but his quiver and its contents were spilled across the ground around the table. He met her eyes when she looked at him and opened his mouth to ask.

"Your plan," she said, "is working."

* * *

Jane went back to Earth two days after their chat with Lynn. She took Tony and Bruce with her, along with a large sampling of various items requested by the many organizations clamoring for something, _anything_ from the alien world.

Jane couldn't blame them for their excitement but she was exhausted. She'd been interviewing dozens of applicants to assist in her work, reviewing grant proposals, chatting with faculty members about every- and anything she could offer them. Some of them were such characters that she felt a headache brewing just to see them coming.

_Why does everyone think scientists are boring,_ she wondered as a man who could at best be described as "eccentric" vacated her lab. _I just wish they were._

She turned to her notes on the Tesseract. It soothed her to work in between consultations. Having a solid project to distract her was the best possible way to focus.

She was looking over the original machine again. They were using the design liberally for her own bridge, but there was something nagging her about the original design. She'd translated Erik's notes with Thor's help - apparently the Tesseract spoke to its minions in the All-Tongue, which didn't make easy reading.

The itch in her mind persisted. There was nothing she was missing here, and yet she felt as though she was missing something _huge_, gaping, as big as the universe itself.

She sighed and leaned back. The door to her lab swished as someone entered.

"Get back to work," Tony joked behind her. "Look at you, lounging. You're so lazy."

"I've earned it," she said. "No wonder you drink all the time. These people are driving me nuts."

"Pepper's the only sane one." Tony stepped up next to her and looked down at her scribblings. "Foster, we've already cracked that nut."

She slanted her eyes to him and realized she had nothing to lose. "I feel like we're missing something big."

"Are you having trouble with your math?"

She shook her head. "No, it's not that. It's not the schematics or the design..." She sighed and rubbed a hand over her face. "I wish Erik had come."

"Missing your dad?" Tony pulled up a chair and sat next to her to look over the schematics. "He did build the thing. If something's wrong with it, he'd know." He laughed quietly. "If he hadn't built in that failsafe..."

"He what?" Jane stared at Tony with shock. She'd assumed the Avengers had come across the solution by heroic chance.

Tony raised his eyebrows. "No one told you? Erik built in an 'off' button. It's how we closed the portal."

"And Loki _let him_?"

"From how Clint tells it, the Tesseract..." He stopped, blinked, and started to look concerned.

"How did Natasha even get the scepter? Loki was holding it in every video like it was his favorite toy."

"He dropped it after he fought Thor. And left it. Right by the machine." Tony was thinking out loud and Jane was nodding. "When we went to get him later he was just laying there." He clenched his jaw. "But he could still sass. And he could still _walk_."

She snapped up in her chair. "Oh my God. He _wanted_ to be captured."

"Had to," Tony said. "Otherwise there's several decisions he made that make no sense." Like letting his pet scientist build in an "off" button to his Portal of Doom. "Shit. But why did he want to get captured?"

"To get to Asgard." Jane was pale. "Thor told me about his dad's vault. It has powerful weapons in there, world-wiping-out type stuff. Loki used one once. Maybe he wants it back."

"Or the guy controlling him." Tony shrugged when Jane's eyes widened. "It's a running theory in the group."

"We need to get him out of Asgard as fast as possible." Jane was standing, scattering her notebook and pens. "He could be up to anything!"

"Whoa there, killer. You're staying here." Tony pushed her back down by her shoulders. "I'll get Bruce and Cap, we'll go back to collect the princess."

"You'll have to convince Odin and Frigga," she reminded him.

Tony shrugged. "Thor's job. Look, your next appointment is here. Back to work, Foster." He left the lab as the latest in a long stream of desperate hopefuls slunk inside. This one had a t-shirt with a DNA double helix which proudly declared ALL YOUR BASE PAIR ARE BELONG TO US.

Jane sighed and felt the headache brewing already.

* * *

Lynn was animated as she stepped easily around her room, sometimes dodging objects where they rested on the floor. She was practicing, letting JARVIS guide her steps and moving faster and faster until she walked at her natural pace. Every ten minutes she took up the items - two pairs of shoes, some clothing, a stack of thick blankets - and rearranged their locations to continue practicing.

JARVIS never steered her wrong. She only had to trust his guidance.

She laughed at her latest attempt. She'd decided to walk full speed from her bed to the window and rely on JARVIS to lead her around the obstacles she'd tossed ahead. They'd reached the window in a few moments, just the same as a seeing person would have. She whooped and grinned out at Asgard.

"Would you describe it to me?"

JARVIS told her of the view she'd never see for herself. The rising columns of the buildings below. The bustling life of the city. She'd been right about the marketplace: it was close by and active.

She looked up and he described the Asgardian sky. She envisioned the pure gold and blue hues, the clouds, the planets in the distance. She asked him to magnify and he counted the number of stars just visible past the daylight.

"It sounds beautiful." She rested her elbows on the sill and took a deep, grateful breath. For the first time in several weeks, she felt happy to be alive.

"Will Jane come back soon?"

"I believe she is engaged with several meetings for the next month. Mr. Odinson is scheduled to visit her next week."

"Oh." She was disappointed. "I like her. She's not as prickly as Natasha."

JARVIS had no reply for that.

"You spend an inordinate amount of time gazing out your window. Do you not find it tiring, as you hear and smell that which you cannot see?"

She blinked and murmured a quiet inquiry to JARVIS to check the daylight. The sun was still up. So what was Loki doing here?

"Maybe I'm wishing I were a bird and could fly away." She turned to face him, and with JARVIS' help looked at him dead-on. According to JARVIS, the trickster looked shocked.

"Those spectacles assist with vision, do they not?"

She nodded. "They help people to see. Not everyone needs them."

"And now you can see?" He sounded offended. Maybe he took this as a personal affront to his magic's own failure to give her sight back to her.

"No. These just help me." She didn't feel like explaining mechanical technology or A.I. to him. It wasn't her forte.

"I see." She wondered if that was a jab. "Where did they come from?" She almost laughed at him.

"Jealous?" She leaned back against the sill and crossed her arms. "It's ok. I don't judge you."

"Judge me?" His voice grated. She tensed. Why did he sound so angry?

"Miss Creed," JARVIS said, "I believe you are in danger. You should leave."

She pushed off from the sill and started to slowly stroll across the room. JARVIS guided her around the objects on the floor, in a path _away_ from Loki. What could she say? What would make him back off? She thought of who was in Asgard now and tried the strongest one she knew.

"I have to go see Thor."

"No, you do not," he said in the same moment JARVIS began a troubled "Miss Creed -"

A hand grabbed her arm and she jumped in surprise. He'd rarely touched her. His palm was cold; his fingers dug into her upper arm. She froze.

"Your first name," he rasped. "What is it?"

"What?" Why would he even care?

"Tell me," he demanded. His grip tightened until she grunted in pain.

"No one uses it. My name is Lynn -"

She was spun, and now both of her arms were captured and clenched to the point of breaking. She was looking right at him; JARVIS buzzed in her ear and offered small encouragements.

"Amma," she said. Her chest was tight. _Tell them anything they want. They'll hurt you anyway. Get it over with._ "It's 'Amma.' I don't use it."

The grips loosened and he sounded calmer. "Amma?"

"Let go." The grips tightened immediately. She sucked in a breath. "Let go now." Panic was a living entity nipping at her mind. "You're hurting me."

He released her all at once and she stood shaking. She reached up to cover her arms where he'd held her, rubbing the muscles. She might have bruises from this.

"My apologies," he said, and he didn't sound very sorry at all. "I forget how fragile your species is."

_Liar_.

"Amma Lynn, then?"

"Stop. No one calls me that." She didn't like this conversation. She had never felt toyed with when Loki spoke with her. She'd spent too long in the tender care of torturers not to recognize the signs now.

"Why do you hate the name so?"

"Because the person who gave it to me abandoned me!" She took a shuddering breath and felt shackles on her wrists. "JARVIS, where's the bed?"

The A.I. guided her. She sat on the edge and held herself, trembling. Loki knelt in front of her and she flinched away from him. He was tall enough that even kneeling, with her on the bed, he could look her straight in the face. She half-expected another false apology. He didn't bother.

"You say you were abandoned?"

She nodded. Her fingers tightened on her sore arms. Why did they keep asking? They could just see the answers, couldn't they? The back of her head itched; she reached up and scratched at the phantom spot.

"Tell me." Soft, gentle. Imploring. Maybe he'd stay that way if she answered.

"I think my mother wanted me to be 'Emmalynn' but decided to get clever about it. So she changed it to 'Amma,' slapped in 'Lynn,' and there you go." She hadn't answered the question. A hand settled over one of her slow-forming bruises. It was cool and almost soothing. It held promises of things to come.

"And then she gave me up for adoption. I'm an orphan. I don't have any family." She was babbling. "I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing. I dreamed of it a lot. But people with families always seem so torn up, too. A whole group of people to please. Whose opinions about you matter. That could be terrible, couldn't it? I know a boy whose parents kicked him out because he's gay."

The hand slid up and down in an attempt to soothe her. "Amma Lynn. Listen to me. I will not hurt you." He actually managed to sound like he meant it.

"No one calls me that," she whispered. She felt so small. He could do anything he wanted. She could call for help. He'd just kill her before anyone came.

"You guessed when I was here last. You were correct. I am not kin of Odin."

"There's orphans in the Realm Eternal?"

He ignored that, though she felt his fingers twitch on her arm. "Odin found me as a babe and brought me here."

"What was it like?" He didn't respond. Maybe he didn't understand what she was asking. "Having a family."

He stood; his hand fell away from her arm and she felt a sudden release of tension in her chest. JARVIS reported that her heart rate was normalizing. And that Loki had stepped away from her and was now looking at the window. She thought of teasing him for doing such, since he'd brought up her habit before. Nothing she came up with made sense.

"In the end," he said, "it was nothing more than the albatross tied around the condemned man's neck. A yoke to drive one mad." He turned to look at her. "I escaped that yoke. The All-Father is displeased."

She felt queasy. She was so sure of herself that she told him her conclusion. "You're leaving."

He didn't gasp or jolt. JARVIS said he looked the same. But he was staring at her hard. She hugged herself tighter.

"Why are you leaving?"

"I'm sure you could guess." He sounded so bland. She shivered.

"Where will you go?"

He didn't answer. It didn't matter where he went. He'd be alone regardless of the location. From one orphan to another, she understood his silence and respected it with her own.

"You have a family," she said after several minutes. "One of them's an Avenger. They'll look for you."

"Perhaps not."

"You're Thor's." She let him have a taste of the possessive pronouns he liked to throw around. "They looked for _me_." _And I'm nobody's._ She didn't have to say it. It was self-evident.

The sound of birds suddenly struck her. JARVIS had said it was a bright, beautiful day outside. She turned her head toward the window and imagined herself changing into a small bird and fluttering away.

"Is it true you can shapeshift?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you?" Didn't, not don't. She was, for the first time, asking about his failed attempt to conquer her home. She guessed to try and bait him into answering. "Does it hurt?"

The enticement didn't work. She lifted herself from the bed only to crouch and begin plucking her possessions from the floor. She gathered as much as she could in two arms. Two pairs of shoes were clasped into the crooks of her elbows and she draped a thick blanket across one forearm. She returned to the bed and arranged the shoes - one pair for everyday use, one for training at Natasha's insistence and Sif's command.

She was folding the blanket with careful, meticulous care when he spoke again.

"Come with me." She froze in the middle of folding along the seams of the blanket and listened.

"There is nothing for you here, no one to claim you. You have no attachments."

It shocked her to realize that if he'd made this offer only a few days ago, before Tony showered her with a future, she might have been tempted.

"I would be a terrible hostage," she said. "I can't really see, and remember I'm fragile."

He chuckled. "A hostage rarely comes willingly."

She was not stupid enough to think he couldn't convince someone they weren't a hostage at all. Maybe that was his game now.

"Why?"

"Why not." He sounded pleased with himself, to throw those words back at her.

"I can't." She straightened. "I've got a life waiting for me. I won't get to do any of it if I go with you."

"A life without vision." He'd stepped closer. She creased her brow. "If you come with me, I will restore your sight. We will find a way. And then I will return you to your Midgard, and the life you think you have waiting for you."

So that's what this was about. "I wasn't kidding when I said I don't judge you."

"It amuses me," and he did sound amused, he really did, "that you think you have any choice in the matter."

She tensed. "I always have a choice."

"No," he said. "You never did." JARVIS buzzed ineffectually in her ear. Loki was already holding her arms again.

"I'll scream -" A hand clamped over her mouth and she _did_ scream then. Her fingers shot upwards and plunged into his throat, directly beneath his Adam's apple. The same spot she'd used on Fandral during sparring under Natasha's instruction. He'd dropped like a stone, choking. Loki was more resistant to the pain, but he did release her with a loud cough.

"Mortal runt," he snarled. He reached for her and she turned to run for the door and scream for help -

A long, low, mournful horn bellowed in the bright beautiful day.

* * *

"What the hell was that," Natasha said. Clint was about to reply when a scream caught both of them off-guard.

"That's Lynn," Clint said as he grabbed his bow along with two arrows and burst into a run. He knocked the first arrow and put the other in his teeth, running hard. His quarters were down the hall, nearly one hundred yards away. That was plenty of time for something terrible to happen, for him to arrive moments too late to save her.

He burst into her room to find Fandral already there and clutching Lynn in his arms as she trembled. Clint had no time not to assume the worst and advanced. He pointed the tip of his arrow directly at the Æsir's eye.

Natasha spoke up behind him. "Let her go, Fandral."

"He wasn't doing anything." Lynn pushed herself out of his arms. "He came when I, when I -"

"Why did you scream, Lynn?" Natasha walked closer and injected as much soothing tone into her voice as she was capable. Clint motioned to the side. Fandral raised his hands and stepped once in the indicated direction, away from Lynn.

"I said he didn't do anything!" Lynn stepped between Clint and Fandral with her hands up. Clint lowered his bow immediately, unwilling to risk keeping it pointed in her face. "What was that noise?"

"It was a signal to the Æsir. There are invaders amongst us." Fandral spoke carefully and slowly, to make sure his message was heeded.

"Invaders?" Natasha exchanged a glance with Clint. "Who the hell would invade Asgard?"

"I suggest we go to the throne room to find out." Fandral stepped to the front to lead the way. "All of the Æsir who are not already engaged in battle and may bear arms will be heading that direction for orders. That will be where Thor, Hogun and Volstagg are."

"What about Sif," Natasha asked. Clint answered.

"She left with Steve about two hours ago."

"Sif will have heard the horn, and will heed the call."

While they spoke, Lynn made her way to the window under Clint's watchful eyes and was peering outside, letting JARVIS guide the direction she faced. A flash of brilliant light from beyond her caught his attention. Lynn, following the A.I's directions, tilted her head up. Something was moving there in the distance. She asked JARVIS to zoom and enhance, then called over her shoulder.

"Clint," she called, "something's coming."

The archer walked to stand by her side and see what she meant. His jaw set and his face hardened into smooth stone. He grabbed her arm and drew her back.

"Stay away from the window, understand? And _stay here._"

"What is -"

"_Stay here_." He walked to Natasha and murmured to her. JARVIS was busy translating the sight outside to her. Lynn listened as he narrated a portal, there in the distance, and a great beast emerging from the portal with a triumphant roar -

She gripped the railing. The Chitauri poured from that distant hole and swept across the land toward the castle.


	18. Writhing

_Well it's full speed baby_

_In the wrong direction_

_There's a few more bruises_

_If that's the way_

_You insist on heading_

* * *

Frigga blew into the royal quarters like a winter storm on a summer day. The doors slammed against the walls - a reminder that the queen, too, had her strength to call upon.

"Husband," she demanded of the room. "You will speak with us."

Thor clasped the hilt of Mjolnir with uneasy regard for his mother. He'd seen her furious and he'd seen her distraught. He had not yet seen her caught up in the maelstrom between the two. He wasn't certain he cared for this flashing, dangerous woman at his side.

Odin emerged from the balcony and peered at the two of them. Despite his mother's inherent strength, Odin's mere presence cast a pallor of soft power across the room. The most powerful being in all the Nine was a hard force to reckon with.

Frigga dared all the same.

"Our son tells me he has three days left to live."

Thor jolted and Odin looked from his son back to his wife. "It is so."

"Mother, what is this about?"

Odin paused, regarding Thor, and answered in a voice devoid of emotion. "I have sentenced Loki to death. He was given three weeks to appeal to the better natures of your mortal friends. In three days I will take their stock and determine if it is enough."

"Father, you can't..." Thor felt lost. After all that had been said and done over these many months, the talk of rehabilitation and chances, his father had already given up so utterly as to sentence his brother to death in secret, away from the eyes and ears of his own family.

"I can and I shall." Odin sounded weary, not the least bit pleased or strong. Thor was torn with the simultaneous desire to fight and comfort him.

"Tell me, my wife," Odin said to Frigga, "tell me what you see. Has the gloom of death abated?"

Her eyes burned with fury. "You know I cannot answer."

"And yet I know you would, if it would save our son's life." So weary, so tired. Thor could only stare as his father crumpled to the floor. His body sagged onto his knees and he stared up at Frigga as though a supplicant begging for mercy.

"You know why I do this, Frigga. You know how this pains me. I do what I must, to protect the Nine."

Frigga knelt slowly before him. She was straight and tall, a pillar of strength when her husband's failed.

"I know, husband." She looked to Thor, who stood lost among the reeds, and held her hand out to him. "Come, Thor. There is something we must tell you."

The last he'd heard those words he'd learned his brother was Laufeyson, unrelated by blood and driven mad by the revelation. What worse could come to pass? What more could his parents have concealed?

He knelt at their sides, facing both of them. Tears streamed from Odin's eye. Frigga had never seemed so regal as she did in this moment, preparing to deliver a harsh truth to her eldest, who still clung to such hope for his younger brother.

"What is it, mother?" And he braced himself for the pain.

"It is of your brother's bond to our family. And the destiny he is on a path to fulfill." And she spoke. Thor learned of the darkness within his father, a black he had witnessed in bare passages but now saw as a gaping maw separating himself not only from his brother but his father as well. He learned of Frigga's prediction when she clutched the tiny blue boy in her arms, and the mutual decision of Asgard's regents to keep him regardless and try to dissuade his fate.

He learned of Ragnarok.

When the low horn sounded, drawing all three of them to their feet in a quick shift from morose to regents, he felt the hand of the Norns gently guiding him toward the inevitable.

And for a moment, just a moment, he let his hope for his brother go.

* * *

A hand caught Lynn's arm and yanked her away from the window. Natasha, JARVIS informed her. She was numb with shock and terror.

"Lynn," Natasha said and shook her. "_Lynn Creed._ You will stay here, away from the window. You will _stay here_ and _hide_." The assassin kept her instructions simple to make sure they got through. Lynn nodded. Natasha pulled her to the side, then nestled her between the large bureau and the corner of the room. Lynn huddled into a small ball, gasping and trying to remember something. Something important had happened just before this. Something _crucial_ that she needed to tell them. All she could feel were the shackles on her wrists and the itch at the back of her head.

Natasha kissed her forehead in a show of support, then pushed away. They didn't have time for better.

"Natasha, go with Fandral." Natasha straightened and shook her head at Clint. She knew what he was going to do.

"Don't argue, we don't have time. Go with Fandral. I'll be there soon."

"Not alone."

He walked to her and took her arm, gave her a small shake. "Dammit, Nat, you said it was working. It doesn't work if I take you with me. Now _go_."

"Come, Lady Natasha." Fandral stepped forth and reached to lead her from the room as he would a noblewoman. She shrugged his hands off and stepped outside on her own. Fandral raised both eyebrows, shot Clint a weathered smile, and walked after her.

Clint began cursing and didn't stop until he reached the prison door.

* * *

"Sif, what was that?" The Æsir had shot to her feet in a sudden frenzy, eyes wide and staring into the sky.

"Asgard is under attack. We must return!"

She was racing to the horses and Steve was behind her for several steps before taking the lead and leaping onto the back of the chestnut mare. The horse reared in surprise and he gripped the mane to hold his seat, his scramble spurring him to new abilities. Sif mounted a moment later and they spun the horses and urged them into a hard gallop.

They'd ridden at least an hour to the clearing, Steve knew. How long would it take to return? How long did Asgard have? Who could be attacking? He had plenty of time to consider the options and needed very little. Within minutes of their frantic departure, a twin set of explosions wracked the path. One struck the mare beneath him on her right flank. The horse screamed in agony and collapsed to the side, its momentum carrying the body into a tumble of flailing legs. Steve was thrown into the forest and came to rest against a tree in a disgraceful jumble.

He groaned and pushed himself up.

"Sif!" He squinted at his surroundings, trying to see through the dizziness. "Sif, are you alright?" She didn't answer and he pushed to his feet to try and find her. The foliage was thick and he'd been thrown far from the trampled path he and Sif had followed.

The chestnut mare's shrill screams were his guide. He staggered in the direction of those pain-filled cries, pushing branches and vines aside in his quest. He'd been thrown around thirty feet, it seemed, propelled by the force of the blast which he now saw had taken the mare's right left leg clean off. She struggled to try and pull herself to her feet and collapsed each time in a burst of red mist and shrill whinnies. The other horse was missing, along with its rider. Steve felt compelled to help, but the moment he approached the poor creature flailed her powerful legs and nearly connected with his head. He was left with no choice but to back away, hands raised.

"Sif!" He hollered in his battlefield voice, pitching his volume so that he could be heard from a longer distance. Beyond the sounds of struggle and neighing a faint call sounded across the way. He shoved a clump of purple leaves to the side and started in the direction of the sound at a run. He hadn't forgotten that they were apparently under attack, and a leisurely stroll to find Sif would only get them both killed.

"Ho, Steve! I am here!"

The voice seemed to come from nowhere. He stopped, ducked behind a thick tree trunk for cover and scanned the nearby forest.

_There_. He could just make out her black hair above the line of tall grasses and bushes. He scanned again, then crouched down and moved through the thick underbrush. It wasn't hard to find her now that he knew where to look - a giant hollow surrounded her, formed by the dead body of the horse atop her.

"Sif, can you move?"

She looked at him, her legs pinned, and shoved at the animal's corpse with a huff of frustration. Apparently horses on Asgard were indeed the Asgardian equivalent of their Earth cousins. He couldn't see her having the same trouble with a non-native breed. Steve grabbed the legs and pulled while she pushed; between the two of them, they shifted the heavy corpse off and away. Her legs were covered in blood from the creature's wounds. Sif moved her legs to test them, then rolled and shifted her weight so that she crouched instead. She nodded at Steve in silent affirmation that she was fine.

The chestnut's shrill cries suddenly stopped, and the two warriors looked to each other with grim faces. That was a sound reserved for outside intervention.

A blast of white light slammed the ground in between them. They were both thrown back again; Steve rolled to his feet and looked in the direction of the blast.

"Chitauri," he yelled so that Sif could hear his assessment. "The ones we fought on Earth!"

Based on their previous conversations she would know what this meant: the Chitauri were not as formidable as Æsir and would fall to her blows if she landed them.

The warriors' weaknesses rested on their total lack of armor and weapons. They had come here from the training grounds in clothes to fit such practices, and neither had thought an impending attack would interrupt this day. Steve clenched his fist and wished to feel the weight of his shield.

_Well you don't have it. Improvise._

The Chitauri were targeting him. He rolled away from a second and third shot, took cover behind a tree and weighed his options. He could continue to draw their fire as a distraction for Sif's more powerful attack. He hated to think it yet his pragmatism insisted: she could withstand more damage than he could.

It didn't mean he was happy about it.

Steve burst from behind the tree to tackle a Chitauri heading straight for him. They went down in a tussle of limbs; he sat up and punched the creature in the face, ripped the blaster from its hands and then used the butt to end the fight with a solid blow which sent purple blood splattering across the grass. Now at least armed, he spun on one knee and aimed for the next in the line. Sif was there and engaged already, serving as the distraction for _his_ attack.

He wasted no time in going on the offensive. They couldn't know just how many Chitauri were pouring in. There were at least twenty by his quick count - nineteen, once Sif was finished snapping the neck of the one she'd just beaten - and all of them were armed. He took careful aim and picked off as many as he could, aiming for their relatively exposed limbs and faces rather than the tempting but futile armored chest. He continuously scanned the sky he could see past the canopy for the flying beasts carrying hundreds more.

Sif had taken a weapon of her own by now and was using it as a spear. She slung the long weapon in a graceful arc which ended with decapitation. Steve fell back to cover her progress, and the two of them battled in earnest.

"They are keeping us away," Sif cried, and Steve knew it was true. They were trying to kill the warriors of course, but such a small platoon wasn't enough for an honest attempt. Not against an Æsir and Captain America - unless the Chitauri didn't learn from battle strategies the way humans and Æsir did. Unless they could not take previous abilities into account. Perhaps the Chitauri thought that Steve's abilities were tied to his shield. He was happy to correct their assumptions, but still...this all seemed wrong.

The last Chitauri fell when his blaster and Sif's spear struck it at the same time. They were both covered in some form of viscera by now; Sif looked at him, shining with battle-lust, and tilted her head back. Her nostrils flared with rage. Steve lowered the blaster when he finished scoping the entire area for a straggler, then lowered it and clenched his jaw. This was wrong. Everything was wrong. He looked at Sif.

"How did they know where we were?"

She shook her head; she didn't know.

"We must return quickly. I fear the attack is in earnest at the castle."

Together, they ran.

* * *

Loki could not see the sky from his prison but the horn resonated deep in the bones of every Æsir - and apparently, even a Jötun.

And so when the horn sounded, the trickster was glad to spare himself a solitary moment of fear and confusion. It was instinctive. To think that any force, from any realm, might try to attack the Golden Realm was unthinkable. The Jötuns had managed to penetrate the castle with Loki's help; this could not be the Jötuns. They were focused on rebuilding their world after the Bifrost nearly destroyed it.

Loki's look shifted into cool calculation. A moment later the door to his cell opened, and footsteps clattered down the stairs. Barton clattered into view and walked straight to the perimeter. He carried his bow in one hand, an arrow in the other, and the full quiver was laced across his back. He gestured up the stairs with the arrow.

"The Chitauri are here."

"Are they?" Loki tilted his head. The fingers of one hand curled around the shackle of the other.

"They followed you?"

"No," the trickster said, "they followed her."

Clint was ready to run to the throne room with the others and ready himself for battle, but Loki was rarely so giving with information. It was best to take advantage while the trickster appeared pliable.

"How?"

"A tether." A smile curved upward. The madness was gripping the trickster now, and Clint tensed to see Loki's lucidity fade away under the weight of whatever else lived inside him. "A clever trick, really. They made her a beacon, you brought her straight here, and they followed behind." Loki's voice sounded calm. He looked up and to the side, as though he could see through the walls of the castle. "So simple."

He looked at Barton and the madness faded into urgency. "They have come for the Tesseract. You must meet them straight away."

The Tesseract was on Earth, with Jane and Banner and Stark. The Chitauri couldn't reach it yet - but Loki didn't know that. Barton stared at him. "Just the Tesseract?" Loki narrowed his eyes and tilted forward, suspicious. "What did they do to you, Loki?" The trickster laughed in a quiet, dangerous tone.

"To me? Nothing."

"I know better than that." Clint swept his eyes up and down the taller man. "I can _see_ better than that."

"I'm afraid you must live in ignorance." They both looked up when a second horn sounded, this one more demanding than the last. "The battle is joined. Where is your little spider, Barton?"

Clint grimaced. "Leave her out of this."

"She called herself yours," the trickster rasped. The urgency was gone. Now there was burning, painful hate. "Will that make it better, or worse, when I keep my promise to her? You will have to tell me if her screams are as sweet."

"Goddammit, Loki, will you shut the fuck up about that?" Clint's temper burst from his mouth in a spray of profanity, and the trickster's eyebrows raised. He even managed to look impressed.

"My. I believe I have, as they say, struck a cord."

Clint advanced, his frayed temper given way to actual, cold rage. He wanted to grip a handful of Loki's tunic and pull the god closer, menacing right in his face. They both knew he couldn't do it without Loki allowing it to happen. Clint took a moment to catch his bearings and pull back enough, just enough not to push the predator over the edge. He backed away, hand raised to indicate no threat. Loki watched with a blank expression.

Clint took a deep breath. And then he dove in.

"I'm the best 'in' you've got, Loki. I'm it. Thor has no say in our decision when it comes to you. He thinks you're safe here in Asgard, but you're not. You think you can survive anything we throw at you? You can't. We've got one last card to play. And believe me when I say, we'll use it on Asgard to get rid of you."

He tossed a disc at Loki's feet, and a hologram burst forth. Loki watched with that same impassive stare as the images morphed from devastation to the lasting after-effects of a nuclear strike. He watched the documented impact of nuclear poisoning as though he were watching a moth flutter by his window.

"It's here. Right now. They want us to use it and leave. And why not? How better to protect Earth than show everything out there that even the Realm Eternal can die. A horrible, slow death. It'll take years to recover. Millenia. We haven't got the lifespans yet. But this shit _does_."

Clint saw the tell. A slight twitch of the lips. The eyes flicked away from the images to look at him. Loki believed him.

"You know what I'm capable of. You know the people I work for. You need to think hard about the enemies you've made. Hard. You saw what we did to the fleet you brought. We'll do it again. We fight to win, and if winning means killing every living thing on this floating rock, we will."

Loki wanted to kill him. They both felt the hum in the air of impending violence. Clint had known it was coming. It was hard to threaten a psychopath's entire world without repercussions.

But he meant what he said, every word. If he died at Loki's hand, the Council would order a strike and send whichever unsavory SHIELD employee was willing to achieve it. Asgard might or might not survive the fallout, but that was alright. They had plenty more bombs where the first one came from.

Loki appeared to be taking him at his word and thinking very hard indeed about the implications of this outburst. "What would you have me do," he finally rasped. His fingers twitched. Clint knew how badly he wanted to break the archer's neck. He was smart enough to know the consequences as well as Clint did.

"I want you to back the hell off." Clint ran a hand through his hair. "Don't make us do this. We're better allies than enemies."

"And how would you win the obedience of the Liesmith?" Loki's voice was quiet and composed. He could have been discussing the weather. "With the staff? You know its effects do not last."

"We have the Tesseract." Clint watched the trickster's face closely. "We've _had_ the Tesseract. The one we were already using to develop weapons. You gave it to an astrophysicist. The knowledge he got didn't go away." Clint felt a mean streak and followed it down, down until his face was as hard and cold as iron. He hadn't threatened so earnestly in years.

"Who will come calling when we toss your mind into the blue?"

Finally, finally the crack. Bright fear, quickly suppressed. The only thing keeping him alive was Loki's belief that Earth would retaliate with demolishing force if pushed with his death. He had no intention of letting that advantage slip.

"We know. There's someone else. Someone bigger than you and your 'fuck freedom' rides." The air was so bone-chillingly cold. The iron melted away when Clint saw, for one brief, shining moment, the man Thor might've called "brother."

"It must be hell, keeping it all straight. Who's on your side anymore, Loki? Aren't you tired yet?"

The trickster blinked at him. Just once. A tear slid down his cheek, released involuntarily from the motion.

"To have come so close," he murmured. Clint tensed. He hadn't been there, but he understood the reference and he didn't like the implications.

And the room exploded into a barren wasteland of ice.

* * *

Thor could hardly believe the speed at which these creatures swarmed his golden city. Their ferocity was matched only by their great numbers, and the thunderer heaved Mjolnir into a pack of them to mow them down.

Yet still more came.

"Where is Barton," he called to Natasha. She had her thighs wrapped around the shoulders of a Chitauri and was driving the tip of her blades into its throat. The body collapsed underneath her in the same moment a white pulse shot past where her head had been. She dropped to her knees and looked up at him, then away across the city streets.

Clint was not here.

Now wasn't the time to go hunting. They were missing two of their number, three with Steve so far away. They were at least lucky in that the Chitauri had chosen Thor's home world for their assault this time, a warrior culture full of citizens far more resilient than humans or even the Chitauri. The creatures were coming in waves, and they were being driven back in waves. Those citizens who could not fight took up roles as supply carriers. They ran across the same battlefields as the warriors and offered courage and water to any who needed it.

Thor looked to the portal and knew not how to combat this. There was no machine to quell, no powerful beam of energy holding the gash open. The energy must be coming from the other side. But how to close it?

"Thor," Volstagg cried, "your aft!"

Thor spun with Mjolnir and drove the flat side into the chest of the beast behind him. It crumpled to the ground in time to miss a blast aimed straight for his broad chest. He took the blow with a cry and step backward; in the next moment he hefted Mjolnir and called a great bout of lightning in a circle around him. The Chitauri closest fell down dead from the barrage. Those further collapsed, impeded by electrocuted limbs, and were finished by Black Widow and Æsir hands alike.

The Æsir poured their might into the battle and turned the tide immediately toward defeat. Natasha shook her head as she fired upon them with a stolen weapon. This wasn't right. This was...

_A distraction._

"Thor!" She called to the thunderer as she turned and fled toward the castle, hoping he would assume she wanted him to follow. The thunder god did, and together they met the besieged castle walls. Arrows rained down from on high and Natasha was nearly hit several times. Thor gripped her to his side and spun Mjolnir, then flung it forward and took the wall in a flying leap.

They landed together on the opposing side, to be greeted by Fandral who saw their appearance and ran to meet them.

"It is a full siege, Thor! They are holding us away from the city!"

"The city is well able to fend for itself." Thor looked down at Natasha, who was glaring at the castle. "There is something afoot."

"This is all a distraction," Natasha said. Thor snapped his head toward the castle. He set upon the truth in a moment's time.

"My brother!" He shouted to the guards nearest him. "Go to my brother's prison! That is their target!"

He was rarely so certain of a conclusion as he was of this. He raced to that same prison, trailed by the guards and Natasha, to find the doors blown from their hinges and clattered against the floor. A swath of snow and ice led in a trail down the steps; he nearly slid off the final step and came to a stop. His breath puffed in white clouds in the frosted air.

The entire room was encased in thick, solid ice with mounds of hardened snow rimming the edges. The walls appeared swollen from their burden; the only sound was the muffled crackle of frozen water settling into place.

"Loki!" Thor's voice was absorbed by the glacial walls. From behind him, Natasha yelled, "Barton!" She ran to his side and peered over the room, panting from her exertions. She stalked into the room and began searching. "Clint, where -" She stopped, then dropped to her knees in the snow and began clawing at the drift. "Thor, help me!"

Thor walked over to kneel next to her and help without question. As they dug, he realized there was a mass underneath this packed snow, something which made this one spot appear darker than the rest.

Clint's body, half-encased in the solid sheet of the walls, slowly emerged under their hands. His legs were completely engulfed; the sheet ended halfway up his torso, and one arm and his head were free. He was blue and cold to the touch.

Natasha placed her hands on either side of his face and leaned forward to listen for breathing. She checked his pulse. "He's alive. Thor, can you break this?"

Thor rose, steadied his stance and struck the wall with Mjolnir; the ice sheet collapsed under the blow. Small shards of ice rained down on all three of them. Natasha grabbed Clint under both arms and dragged him away from the wall.

"He's too cold, we need to warm him up."

"Then he must be moved." There was no amount of fire which would warm this room now. Thor took Barton's hands and dragged him up the stairs at Natasha's urging, who was worried that hefting the archer might damage his frostbitten legs.

They settled outside the frozen cell and Natasha began rubbing Clint's arms with her hands to force warmth into the muscle. Thor offered his cape and she took it with quiet desperation.

"Natasha..."

"Go find him." She leaned over to check Clint's breathing again; it was slightly stronger. Two of the guards who'd come with them ran to fetch any healer who might be available. Natasha looked up at Thor, her eyes as steel.

"I'll be fine. Go."

Thor went.

* * *

Loki met the small Chitauri entourage as they entered the vault, standing dead center in the room and regarding them with hardly a care in the world. "And what could your intentions be here, I wonder?"

"Asgardian." The Other did not sound pleased to see him, and Loki smiled and clasped a hand over his heart.

"Ah, your greeting rings false, my friend. What displeases you?"

"You know _well_. You claimed you would _win_ the earth for Him."

Loki scoffed. "And you that the Chitauri forces would overwhelm the meager might of Earth." The trickster laughed. "More fool me, to trust your words." He pantomimed the scepter, the physical reminder of the true authority here, and mused, "I could hardly say it was my fault that your army failed."

It struck the intended nerve. The Other hissed and twitched his fingers, yet did not advance on Loki. The trickster pushed harder.

"Defeated by six of Earth's warriors - six! Not once now, but twice. You are children, bullied into submission."

"As _you_ were bullied." Loki smirked at the jab and twisted his own knife harder.

"Indeed. I requested the entire force be sent, yet you refused and allowed your forces to slowly crawl. Did you think I jested? If you had but trusted me, we would not be _here_."

The Chitauri master hissed at him. He smiled. He'd hit a truth the Other did not want revealed.

"Ah," Loki mocked, "then it is not just _I_ that your master is displeased with."

"_Silence your lying tongue._"

"I cannot, as you well know." Loki gestured around the weapons vault. "Your coming was quite delayed. The protective systems are in full effect. What kept you?"

"Your _breadcrumbs_ were not so numerous this time." The Other might have been glaring. It was hard to tell behind the cloak and mask. "And still we came to _gather_ you."

"Ah, there's no reason to lie. I am still, as ever I was, _better_ at it than you."

The Other did sound beguiled in his gravelly way. "Then who is the bigger fool - _us_ for believing _you_, or _you_ for believing _us_?"

Now wasn't that an interesting declaration. Loki would not rise to the bait. He would instead turn it into bait for his foe. "It was I," he drawled. "For I reckoned on your assurances, and was disappointed for my faith."

The Other gestured to one of the four Chitauri surrounding him and spat a command.

"_Retrieve_ it." The soldier started forward, peering into each enclave as he searched. The podiums remained inside of each, yet the relics were missing. The soldier brushed by Loki, who merely stood aside and waited. The Chitauri became more agitated as it sought out the desired item, and released a series of pitched noises at its master. Loki spoke before the Other might reply.

"It is not here."

The Other ignored him, instead ordering the three remaining soldiers to join the first and search for hidden pathways of concealment. Loki sighed.

"This is a waste of time. Your delays allowed the All-Father to conceal these weapons. They are all locked away and safely warded against outside discovery by the All-Father himself."

Desperation flavored the air, and the Other joined the chase. Loki raised both eyebrows as the Chitauri frisked every nook and cranny of the room, leaving no stone unturned in their quest for their master's bidding.

"Do not despair," the trickster mocked. "You will scour every speck of this chamber, and then know your master will greatly reward you for your devoted thoroughness."

Loki began to taunt him further until a loud shriek interrupted them both. A fifth Chitauri soldier entered the vault bearing a squirming gift. The Other grimaced in pleasure at such convenience. Let the Asgardian prove his commitment to their master's cause another way. He gestured toward the writhing figure.

"She is no more than a burden, now. Kill her. _Kill_ her, Asgardian."

Loki watched as Lynn closed her eyes and struggled. She coughed and gasped around the Chitauri hand clenched against her face, holding her head to the side. The arm around her torso held just as firm; if the creature wanted to, it could break her neck in one quick movement.

But it didn't.

Time dragged on. Loki stood and pondered his choices. He need only call forth his throwing knives and deliver one fatal shot. Or speak one word to tell the Chitauri to snap her neck. She was worthless now; there was no point in keeping her when she'd served the purpose he needed. And yet, despite his apathetic state, the trickster stood fast. The Other sneered.

"_Bring_ her." Loki looked at him and narrowed his eyes. It wouldn't do to leave this place with his allies perceiving her as a weakness. No, there was a reason, a purpose - he just needed to create it.

"She will lead us to Midgard."

The Other paused as Lynn's struggles increased. She clawed at the Chitauri with her fingers, but its armor held fast against her nails.

"She holds the tether well." Loki advanced on the Chitauri holding Lynn. The glasses were slanted against her face, which made no difference to the entity within telling her what it saw. He reached forward to pluck them from her nose, twisted his palms one around the other, and crushed them between his fingers. He held his hand close to her ear, that she might hear the sound. She sobbed against the gray claws.

Her fear fueled his words.

"What better repayment for her services, than to let her provide the same benefit for her home as she served here."

He leaned close enough that she could feel his breath and smiled. "To lead you back to Midgard."

The struggling increased. Muffled yells echoed against the gray hand across her face. The Other stepped closer to her and smiled, that same leering smile from so many nights before. He raised his hand to grip her cheek and she flinched away, strong enough that the Chitauri holding her couldn't restrain the move.

"_Yes_," he said, and his many digits came to rest on her exposed cheek. "He will _delight_ in ripping your pathetic world sundry, knowing it was _your_ tether which led him there." Lynn whimpered and clawed at the armor behind her. Her nails bent and broke before the rigid structure gave. "_Sleep_, little mortal. Sleep well, and sleep _long_."

Her struggling stopped all at once and she slumped forward. Loki turned away and narrowed his eyes at the entrance. The sounds of battle were waning outside.

"Are you finished searching for what is not here? There is little time left."

The Other hissed again. "Move us, then. Or are you so _spent_ from your dalliance here?"

Loki scowled at both the Chitauri master and his underlings. "I cannot move so many. You, guard - give the girl to me." It irked him that the guard waited for confirmation from its master, but the girl was passed over into the trickster's arms. He took one step away and looked at the Other with dispassion.

"I cannot move so many at once," he repeated. "You may come, and one other, but the rest," he nodded to the soldiers, who shuffled uneasily as he spoke, "must stay. Are these ignorant of your master's wishes? I assure you, Asgard's methods of extricating information are without parallel."

The Other sneered at the soldiers. "Decide among yourselves the one who will come. The rest will die."

* * *

"Thor!" Volstagg's bellow cut through the swarming tide as Thor reappeared in the castle courtyard. Thor raised Mjolnir to signal he heard and was coming to Volstagg's side, but the man was instead pointing to the sky and raising his weapon in victory. Thor looked and saw the portal shrinking of its own accord, slamming shut and halting the never-ending tide of the Chitauri army.

He felt resignation and despair. If the portal were closed, it meant the Chitauri had gotten what they came for - and his brother was now out of reach.

* * *

When the Æsir guards returned to the vault, long after the battle was finished, four dead Chitauri were discovered sprawled across the hall, one half-braced inside of the water. The signs of battle amongst them were unmistakable: flecks of gore stained the floor and walls, and two of the Chitauri were missing limbs. One had nearly lost its head, and the offending blade was still wedged inside of its throat.

The ancient relics, gleaming in their enclaves, were untouched.


	19. Purpose

_Tell me how you really feel_

_Tell me what is on the inside of you_

_All the somethings you conceal_

_Only keep away the ones who love you_

* * *

Loki found that the stillness of the atmosphere in this realm was the worst aspect, and the hardest to accustom himself to. He had never encountered a location so lacking in wind currents, seasonal shifts, or other indications that the realm was living and not simply a barren rock hurtling through deep space. There was nothing to interrupt the reality of this realm: that the universe expanded before it in a great swath of dark potential, and that this rock had little atmosphere to protect its inhabitants from the oppressive nothing surrounding them.

The trickster breathed deeply and tried not to think on the lack of scents carried to him, without a breeze to do so. On the roughest days, even sound struggled to carry through the air around them and he found himself grateful for the beast's ability to communicate outside of the necessity of noise. He did not love this, however. It forced him to open his mind a little further to allow receipt of the messages conveyed. Each time he allowed this widening, he felt the insanity pushing behind the mental barriers he'd constructed, attempting to breech and find new ground in his fertile mind.

He'd grown accustomed to the feeling and no longer realized how closely the madness pressed against him otherwise.

"I cannot do as you request," the trickster said as the Mad Titan proposed the same entreaty to him for the third time. Thanos clenched his massive fists and looked to the skies. Off in the distance, a great war beast cried out its blood lust. Loki waited for the Titan to think of a new avenue, knowing it would also be futile. He let the silence stand as further support of his refusal.

_Your limitations are self-imposed._

"No." Loki waved a hand to dismiss the Titan's theory. "I cannot open a pathway without an anchor. There must be something there for me to use, to latch on to."

This, of course, was a lie. He could access Yggdrasil at will and open any pathway he desired to walk the roads Thanos so clearly wanted to master. His refusal served the end of forcing the Titan to display his full hand before the final cards were dealt. Thanos insisted that Midgard must righted, and that Loki must lead the Chitauri in doing so.

Initially, the Titan merely planted the idea in casual mentions of the middle realm. Over time, the ideas became focused and clearer, and with Loki's repeated assurances that Earth was primitive in its ability to defend itself, eventually morphed into the need to teach a lesson. To subjugate, and rule, and bring the primitive mortals from their relative darkness into the light of enlightenment.

Loki had once questioned these motives, finding them bare and simple in their execution. He no longer wondered over his own desires to conquer Midgard. That he wanted to - that he _must_ - was as obvious and irrefutable as the quiet whispering fostering the ideas within him. He hardly noticed the unceasing mantra of doubt over the quiet insistence that Earth needed a savior in the form of a more powerful, superior being with great intellect. Terrible though merciful, ruthless and compassionate. A ruler deserving the title, with the honest desire to help the lesser and better their lot. To make them worthy. Worthy, and honorable, and precious - to match the one who protected them, to _deserve_ that protection -

Despite his newfound craving to join in this effort, Loki wanted to know the Titan's true intentions in targeting Midgard, for the trickster already understood his own.

_An anchor_, the beast said now. _To draw you forth to this little world._

Loki smiled to know he'd won. "Anything will suffice, so long as you provide the means."

The Titan turned to regard the creature observing them from yards away. It was the first outright acknowledgement of their audience. Loki's followed Thanos' gaze and smiled at the Chitauri leader - their king, if such titles existed within this realm, or at the very least their commander. It was this creature who promised a massive army to ensure victory over the primates. And it was the same who stepped forward now to join Thanos and Loki, standing side by side as the supplicant approached the god and the Titan.

Loki stared down at the masked figure and ignored his base desire to kill such a repulsive thing. Thanos held forth his hands. As they moved the air around them shifted, and he called forth from the ether a scepter fitted with a glowing stone. This scepter passed from master to slave, and the Other clutched it tightly to his cloaked chest. Loki watched impassively as Thanos turned away.

"The Tesseract has _awakened._" The Chitauri leader might have watched Thanos, Loki or any number of novelties in the distance. The mask ruined all hope of discerning emotions or attention from the creature's eyes. "It is on a _little_ world, a human world."

The creature stretched its hands and Loki reached to take the offering. "They would weild its power, but our _ally _knows its workings as they _never_ will." Loki glanced to Thanos and raised his eyebrows. _Our_ ally, the creature said, as though he found himself level with the immortals before him. Loki nearly scoffed as the creature turned his attentions fully toward his master.

"He is ready to lead, and our force, our _Chitauri_, will follow. A world will be his - the universe, _yours -_" Loki narrowed his eyes and set the end of the scepter into the ground. The never-ending blue shifted and swirled in the corner of his vision, forever distracting a portion of his attentions.

"And the humans," the creature finished. "What can they do, but _burn?_"

"I never knew you regarded me so highly, slag." The creature did not reply, and Loki turned to Thanos.

"This Tesseract," Loki said. "It is the anchor?"

_If you remove your helmet,_ the Titan said, _I will show you._

The last bastion of Loki's tenuous grasp on his own sanity. This was the first request the Titan made of him to remove the protective shield. Thanos did not know of the spells Loki had woven into the metal itself to ward off the Titan's madness. But he had grown used to the press of that madness over time, and felt himself now impervious to the dark delusions surrounding him.

And so, heedless of the grim sneer of satisfaction on the creature between them, Loki reached up and removed the horned helmet from his head.

When the roaring din faded, he was on one knee on a platform in Midgard with the Tesseract's portal twitching above him. He had looked upon the mortals in their confusion and fear, felt the power of the scepter thrumming in the palm of his hand. Felt destiny and fate smiling down upon him, and the words to explain himself bubbling forth and ready.

And he'd smiled.

* * *

The ice hung heavy on the walls of Loki's former prison. It stood two feet thick and emanated powerful waves of cold which kept the room so chilled that Thor could feel the water in his eyes and mouth solidifying even as he breathed. The thunderer was not standing idle. He was walking the middle portion of the cell, which was layered in compacted snow, searching. He crouched every now and then to peer deeper into the gloomy white. He brought a lit torch with him, and held this to the snow when he thought he found what he sought. The snow melted back slowly from the fire, the sheer might of the cold able to withstand its natural enemy for longer than usual.

Thor stood when he realized he hit upon the items he wanted. He held the torch low and pressed it close to the sheet of ice. The melting water sputtered and hissed as it receded at its own pace, reluctant to relinquish its treasure. Thor waited.

Circular metal soon emerged from the snow. He knelt down and took up the first cuff, which was still attached to the chain connecting the restraint to the podium in the center of the room. The cuff was twisted and brittle to the touch. When he pressed his index finger to the metal it crumbled under his hands. Flecks of frozen metal drifted to the floor.

A Jötun warrior with years of practice and skill was said to be capable of freezing metal. Thor was not certain if this ability was inherent to his brother's race, or if Loki himself had drawn inspiration from the legends and used magic to enhance his natural abilities. Either way, the metal was destroyed and Loki was gone.

Not that he had been restrained, the thunderer thought bitterly. Lady Natasha revealed his attack on her in Clint's quarters. The fact that these restraints were useless was cause for high alarm. The All-Father himself crafted these shackles and bound the magic inhibition within them. If Loki were powerful enough that even Odin couldn't contain him...

Thor had asked Natasha in great detail about the figure which appeared in her room. She saw no shackles, which meant that these restraints were either worthless - a conclusion without merit, as Loki would not have bothered to shatter them without the need to - or Loki had mastered the art of projection and gained the ability to grant physicality to a double.

Thor already knew which option was correct. He had seen for himself on the carrier. Loki's duplicate reached for the button to release the prison with Thor trapped inside into the sky with no effort to forestall the action. He had known he would succeed, and it was only in Agent Coulson's subsequent arrival and murder that the duplicate faded away.

Thor felt exhausted. He twisted the cuff in his hands and felt no satisfaction when the brittle metal snapped under the slightest pressure. He dropped the pieces to the ground and clenched his fist. In another moment he advanced on the far wall, deep inside the cell where the cold was strongest, and plunged his fist directly into the sheet. The ice around his fist exploded outward into glistening shards. Several cracked against his armour before collapsing to the ground. He drew his hand back and stared at the bits of white clinging to his skin. The cold settled marrow-deep.

"I'm sorry, Thor." Thor turned to look at Steve. He settled his fist by his side and shook out his fingers to clear away the chill.

"How is Barton?"

"Awake." Steve finished walking down the slippery steps and stood at the other end of the room, where the climate was warmer due to the rushing air from above. "The healing stones saved his legs and arm. He'll need a few days to recover."

Thor looked at the spot where Barton had been found. "Why was he with my brother?"

"He wanted to know how the Chitauri got here."

The pause became uncomfortable silence. Thor felt something within him clench in painful anticipation. He forced the words from his lips.

"What was Loki's answer?"

Steve rubbed a hand against his arm and shivered in the cold of the room. "He said they put a, a spell on Lynn and followed it to Asgard."

"A tether." The anticipation broke into grief. Thor recognized the spell as one Loki himself had used in the past. A long, grueling campaign demanded some ability to locate each other in case of separation. Of course, in those days the tether spanned short distances. As Loki and his power grew, the distance of the spell increased until it could cover nearly an entire realm. Had Loki taught this magic to his allies? Or did the Chitauri simply have a similar spell?

"Thor..." Steve seemed reluctant to continue, as though he wished to address an unsavory topic. He grimaced. "This tether. It's magical?"

"Aye."

"But didn't -" He couldn't continue. Steve didn't want to say it. Fortunately Thor removed the burden by continuing the thought himself.

"Loki might have missed it among the other enchantments, or like her blindness could not lift it. Or...he may have left it." On purpose. Thor couldn't bear to utter that possibility aloud, though it howled vehemently in his mind.

"So he might have led the Chitauri here."

Thor did not reply. Steve sighed and scratched the back of his head. "I can't stay in here. The cold is getting to me. Come on, Thor. Let's go warm up."

The thunderer followed. Behind him, a loosened chunk of ice plummeted to the floor. The sound of it hitting and splitting against the ground brought him his first bit of comfort in days.

* * *

Tony and Bruce materialized with the boat in the center of the Bifrost site and found themselves face to face with the gaping maw of one of the giant Chitauri beasts they'd fought so many months ago. Before beaming to Asgard, Tony had donned the Iron Man suit in preparation for an Asgardian royal family intervention. Now he turned both blasters into the thing's face and activated them. The shots collided with the creature's hard outer shell with a ricocheting _boom_. The creature lay unmoving.

"Jesus Christ," Tony belatedly yelled in surprise. "Where did it come from?!"

A large green hand grabbed his shoulder to gain his attention. He tilted to look up at the Hulk, who pointed out to the rest of the Bifrost. He was nearly double Tony's height, even in the suit, and so Tony lifted himself from the ground to see what Bruce wanted him to see.

"Holy -"

There were Chitauri bodies littering the Bifrost. Another leviathan lay fifty yards away, the front end of it lying on its side and the back end completely ripped away and gone. The signs of a brutal fight were everywhere. Tony felt ill.

"Great. Don't un-Hulk, I can't tell if this is over or not."

"There is little sign of ongoing battle, Mr. Stark. I am measuring activities close to the castle which seem to indicate a clean up effort is under way."

_I was too late._ Tony turned his head to give JARVIS a full scan. "Where's the activity highest?"

"The castle, sir."

"Time to see the wizard. Hulk - follow."

He blasted forward and the green beast surged behind.

* * *

Natasha could think of no other place to be. She hovered at Clint's bedside, watching him relive the memories before ice encased three fourths of his body and he was left to die. She clenched and unclenched her fists as he grunted in his sleep, and leaned forward to put herself into view when his eyes shot open. His pupils were fully dilated and he gasped, once, before finding her. She placed a hand against his chest and hummed a tuneless song until his heart rate slowed down.

Clint said in a wry tone, "I think I pushed too far."

"Even gods have limits," she said.

"I'm not dead." Clint raised his bandaged hand, which had been enclosed in the ice and badly frostbitten. He flexed and wiggled his fingers. "I take that as progress."

"I don't think this was about you." Natasha took the injured arm in one hand. She reached into a bowl at his bedside, took up a heated stone and began rubbing the stone across Clint's arm. He could feel the warmth even through the bandages, and his sigh of relief was genuine.

"Aw. I felt special for a minute there."

"He needed to break his cuffs. Thor said he froze the metal."

"You can freeze metal?"

"Don't ask." Natasha turned his arm to start on the other side. "Stark wouldn't shut up for thirty minutes. Bruce finally calmed him down."

Clint stared up at the ceiling. When Natasha turned his arm again, he said, "Thor needs to know something."

"I told him Loki attacked me. He knows the restraints didn't work."

"Not that. The spell Loki mentioned..."

"Steve took care of it," Natasha said quietly. Clint flinched. "He said Thor took it better than expected."

_Which means he won't be killing me, I guess._ Clint nodded. Natasha's hands faltered and he looked at her with raised eyebrows.

"What's wrong?"

"There's something else." She drew her hands away and set the now-cooled stone back in the bowl. She rubbed her palms on her thighs and braced herself.

"Lynn was taken."

"The hell you say." Clint pushed himself to sitting. His legs moved sluggishly against the sheets and his arm twitched in protest. He ignored them all. "Where's Heimdall? He can tell us where -"

"Not yet." Natasha set a hand on his shoulder. His muscle jolted. "You need to heal."

He scowled. "I don't have time to be an invalid."

"Too bad." She took up another heated stone and took his arm again. "We'll find her, but we need to recoup first. We're no good to her spent and injured."

"I didn't get to fight, I'm only one of those."

Natasha smiled. "Stop being stubborn and soon you won't be that either."

"How will Lynn be?"

Natasha didn't answer. She didn't want to speculate.

"Where does that leave her, Nat?"

Natasha shook her head. "I don't know."

* * *

Sif found the thunder god and hugged him without comment, her silent wisdom a boon for his dark mood. Fandral and Volstagg took on Hogun's stoic sullenness, as they had when Loki first fell from the Bifrost. Neither man was a bearer of tales, and the pretense of surprise at Loki's perceived betrayal fell ill on both of them. Hogun was in the healing ward with a deep gash in his arm. He'd nearly lost his hand to a Chitauri's blaster.

Thor excused himself and wandered the castle in an effort to avoid his friends and fellow Avengers alike. Every one of them were stained with residual resentment toward Loki for actions personally witnessed or borne, and the thunderer understood the cruelty in asking them to set their resentments aside to ease him.

None of them offered true comfort, and Jane was on Midgard.

_My little brother_, he thought as he walked. He thought little beyond this, the pain in his chest too commanding to overcome. He found himself once more in the frozen prison, which was now partially thawed at the entrance. His steps crunched under his feet as the crumbling ice gave way. He stopped just inside the entrance and let the cold engulf him.

He knew he should feel betrayed, by this as well as other actions taken in the past few years. He knew he should be furious and grieving, as his parents were. Yet Thor had spent the majority of his long life serving as the older brother to the lost soul so hated by the others. He faulted no one for their perceptions. But he knew his brother as they did not, and saw his brother lost in an abyss from which there might be no end beyond death. Even the All-Father acknowledged the hopelessness of Loki's plight. And yet...and yet...

Thor could not let go of his responsibilities so easily. He saw Loki pulled into darkness and despair, and wanted to help his little brother in any way he could. If only the trickster had come home when Thor pleaded! He had yet to commit his worst atrocities against Midgard then, and the repercussions of those actions must now be recognized. There could be no reconciliation until Loki faced justice.

Thor had taken him from Midgard for his punishment, at least. He knew, intellectually, that Loki had committed his most recent crimes against the realm of mortals, and therefore they had rightful claim to his sentence. But Thor had been an older brother before he had ever become an Avenger. Even draped in madness as Loki was, he could not stomach the thought of abandoning the trickster to the mercies of those he had intended to subjugate.

Thinking on Stark's disc and the horrors it displayed, and that the very same weapon was used in the attack on the Chitauri during that time, Thor thought he might have made the better choice. If Midgardians were so willing to do such things to a recently-encountered enemy, what might they do to that enemy's leader? Thor was not so foolish as to have unwavering faith in humanity. As Loki pointed out, humans were hardly compassionate enough to themselves, much less other species. And he witnessed himself SHIELD's desire to weaponize the Tesseract.

Thor hoped for humanity's continued advancement but would leave no brother of his to their whims.

Although, three days more and Loki would have died at his own father's hands, which made any benefits of his Asgardian prison negligible.

Three days...

Thor turned on his heel and strode toward his parents' chambers. The day's royal proceedings were canceled to make room for reparations and mourning for any lives lost, which left Frigga and Odin to either survey the damage themselves or mull about in their quarters. Thor wasn't certain they were mulling, but he could ask the guards for guidance if his parents were not there.

He spoke briefly to the guards and carried himself toward the banquet hall. The healing ward had spilled into the hallways, and Odin declared the larger banquet hall be used for further space. Such an attack had not been seen in millenia. The Æsir fought nobly, but many of those injured were civilians rather than warriors. Thor saw more women and children than men. He recalled how the Chitauri had attacked with wanton abandon in New York, and saw that their pattern of blind menace stayed true here in Asgard.

His mother was seated at the bedside of a young injured boy. Half of his face was covered in bandages to protect the damaged skin underneath. He seemed asleep, and as Thor approached he saw dark hair and pale skin. He paused at his mother's side while she softly hummed a familiar tune to the young boy.

Frigga reached forth to stroke a lock of dark hair away from the boy's forehead.

"I told your brother of the darkness I felt in his presence. I wonder, now, if that mistake caused this."

Thor laid a hand on her shoulder. "You could not have known Loki's reaction. He has become unpredictable." He thought on this, then produced a small smile. "More so, I mean."

"The woman was never the leash I intended."

Thor nodded. "I am not certain if Loki ever felt responsible for her, imposed as the sentence was. He was more likely to fight."

"He has ever been stubborn. I thought he would fight the darkness with guidance, and choose a different path." Frigga's eyes shone bright as she leaned away from the young boy. "Instead, it seems he has embraced it."

She looked close to collapsing, and Thor tightened his hand to steady her. She grasped his forearm and pressed one curled fist to her forehead, anguish pouring from her.

"Oh, Thor - what was done to him? How did he come to be so broken? How -"

Thor drew her up into his arms and held her. Lost to his own musings, he had given no thought to his mother's need for reassurances.

Thor found he could offer none beyond his strong arms wrapped around her. Truth be told, he was plagued with the certainty that his parents' combined actions drove Loki to this - whatever his intentions might have truly been.

"I wish to speak with Father. Do you know where he is?"

"Yes," Frigga said as she leaned away from his embrace. "He is offering assistance to the city. It was heavily damaged and there is much to rebuild." She folded her hands before her. "The rebuilt portion of the Bifrost also suffered damages and will need to be repaired again."

"I will go to Father, and see about offering help." Thor felt it unnecessary to confess his true motives. _Perhaps I have learned from my brother_.

Frigga stroked his cheek, then stepped back and sat again at the young boy's side. He stirred and mumbled in his sleep. She rested a hand against his forehead and hummed quietly. Thor turned and left.

His steps carried him past more destruction than anticipated. It pained him deeply to see his beautiful Asgard sullied with the blemish of war. While most of the bodies littering the grounds were the enemy, there were enough innocent Æsir to haunt him for a lifetime yet. That his own brother brought this upon them - that Thor's own faith in that brother was part of the cause -

Odin stood in the courtyard with Gungnir, using his magic to lift heavier pieces and fit them back to their rightful places. The spear glowed softly in the afternoon light. Thor approached him, and the guards allowed him close - they saw nothing beyond the crown prince seeking orders to aid in the effort to rebuild.

Thor stepped to his father's side and watched with fascination as Odin's magic reassembled and lifted a section of wall into position for the stonemasons to finish their work. He held the stones in place as he spoke to Thor.

"This has greatly drained me. I will take the Odinsleep after this, and you will serve as regent."

Thor shook his head. "I cannot, Father. The woman Lynn Creed -"

"Is not your responsibility." Odin set Gungnir down and the glow faded. The wall was in position; it was for the craftsmen to complete the task now. "Your friends will save her. The whole of Asgard needs a strong leader in these troubling times. That is where your responsibility lies."

"I cannot abandon them."

"They will understand."

"They will not!" Thor's voice rose with agitation. Odin looked to him with raised eyebrows.

"What troubles you, my son?"

Thor gripped the handle of Mjolnir and let the hammer's firm resolve wash through him. Ever sure, ever certain, the weapon served its purpose well. And he would do the same.

"Do you absolve yourself of responsibility for this, Father? You drove him to this with your sentence."

Odin watched his son with something akin to pity. "I understand him better than you." The All-Father looked out over the aftermath of the battle. "Your brother saw no choice."

"Father -"

"He is most dangerous in his desperation." Odin no longer saw the city before him. His expression turned sad. "He has allied himself with the most foul creatures and the unsettled Titan which leads them."

"Look, Father - look what his desperation has caused." Thor swept Mjolnir in a wide arc around them.

"I have seen more than this, Thor. The Chitauri entered the weapons vault in search of a very particular item."

Thor tensed. "They have stolen one of our relics?" Every one of the artifacts within the vault was capable of far worse destruction than one Æsir city. Odin shook his head.

"No. I thought they found what they came for - the Gauntlet is gone, and with it the power to unmake all creation - and yet here we are. The Nine still stand."

"The Gauntlet?" Thor searched through his memories and wished, fervently, that Loki were beside him to explain this reference. He had always remembered the histories better.

"The Infinity Gauntlet. Once stolen, then retrieved from the Mad Titan - the same being who I thought to command your brother's actions. Yet here we are." Odin looked to the sky where the portal appeared. "If the Mad Titan were to find it, all creation would cease." Odin nodded to the city, where the sound of hammers and calls for assistance rung clear against the sky as the Æsir rebuilt their home. "Your brother would know this."

Thor looked out over his people. "You think he took this Gauntlet as a means of concealing it?"

"I can only hope, Thor." Odin turned and laid a hand on his son's shoulder. The two men regarded each other, one warily and the other with infinite patience. "That I see you next to me, and lay my hand on your shoulder - this gives me hope that destiny might yet be unmade."

Destiny. Thor was coming to hate the word. He took his father's meaning in context of recent revelations, and the spark of faith within him roared to a blazing fire. If this Gauntlet were capable of such terrible things, and continued existence itself were a sign of Loki's refusal to carry out the Titan's command...

Thor looked to the sky where the portal had closed, taking his brother with it, and hoped.


	20. Velvet

Sometimes it was better to stay asleep.

Steve opened his eyes with grudging resignation. For a wild moment he considered refusing to move for the next several hours, just lying there without will or ambition or any of the myriad of driving emotions plaguing him. His mind was willing; his body was not. The moment he acknowledged wakefulness, the higher metabolism propelled him into motion. As he lay unmoving, his fingers twitched in anticipation. He could not sit still because his body was no longer designed for motionless rest. He needed something to do.

He needed to get up.

He pushed the thick cover aside and draped his legs over the edge of the bed. He stared blankly at the wall across the room as he began to plan his day. Help Asgard rebuild was a general idea with merit. After the battle, as soon as the builders, stonemasons and carpenters realized this mortal was stronger than the others, they put him to work hefting objects his teammates might struggle with. He couldn't keep up with an Æsir, but he made up for his lesser strength with higher tenacity.

Sif found and helped him the day before. Together they rebuilt half of an Asgardian home which had been destroyed by a Chitauri grenade. Steve threw himself into the task and Sif had pulled him aside at one point to force him to rest, eat and drink an entire flask of water. The energy the snack gave him carried him through the rest of the day and into the night. She stuck by his side for the most part. She left once to go find Thor, and returned within the hour in sour spirits. Together, they demolished an unsalvageable wall for parts to recycle.

"You are very focused," she commented to him, once. He'd only nodded and continued his work. He wanted to erase all signs of the attack from the Golden Realm.

Now was day two of the same efforts. _Exercise first,_ he thought, and dropped to the cold floor to begin his morning regiment. Two hundred push-ups in varying styles of difficulty, the same number of jumping jacks to loosen his arms and legs for the day's work. Slinging a hammer effectively meant his arms and back muscles needed to be flexible.

With some of his excess morning energy burned away, Steve exited his quarters and made his way to Thor's. The unofficial meeting place was now part of every Avenger's morning routine, since the day's meals for the team were now consistently served there. Thor - and Jane, when she was in Asgard - welcomed the company and left the door open when not present. Thor's Æsir friends also often joined now, and Steve found himself in Fandral and Volstagg's company when he entered the room. Bruce stood out on the balcony with a crudely crafted sandwich of fresh-cut roast and torn bread in his hand, looking out over the city. Steve wondered who had cut the bread for him until he watched Fandral decimate another slice from the still-warm and therefore soft morning loaf. He offered to take the knife, which Fandral handed over with a grateful smile, and smoothly sliced four pieces from the thick roll.

Steve left the slices to the Æsir and picked at the fresh fruits instead. Volstagg clapped him on the back.

"You must eat more! That would never be enough to satisfy even a small bird's appetite!"

Steve shrugged, an action which both conveyed his ambivalence and loosened the now-sore shoulder muscles where Volstagg thumped him. "I'm always hungry, it doesn't make much difference."

"Is that so?" The large warrior beamed. "Truly you should have been born Æsir. The feasts we could share!"

"As though you are ever satisfied with a feast," Fandral said. He winked at Steve, a clear indication of how unlikely such a thought was.

"Liquor doesn't work on me either," Steve offered. Fandral took his turn to look troubled.

"You must try our ale before you are so hasty. It is far stronger than the water you serve on Midgard."

Steve shook his head. "It's not all weak."

"Too weak for you, it seems. Come - we will plan an experiment, as your Tony Stark would say, and see how your mortal body handles Æsir ale."

Steve laughed. Tony had taken to testing various Æsir versus human characteristics to see how the species measured up against each other. So far his tests consisted of trying to drink Fandral under the table, gorging on Asgardian food with Volstagg, and comparing weapon construction with the poor blacksmith Thor set him upon when the thunderer could no longer answer the inventor's incessant questions. That Fandral encouraged Stark's "experiments" by broadening the test subjects was no surprise.

"How's Hogun," Steve asked. Volstagg's face fell into stern professionalism.

"His hand is healed, though they say a terrible scar will mar his arm where the healers reattached the skin."

"A scar?" Steve was confused. "But Lynn was _burned _and -"

"That was new skin grown over the old damaged stuff." Bruce entered the conversation from the balcony. He scanned the trough for something new and picked up a small cluster of grapes. "Hogun's skin wasn't regrown, it was reattached."

"Oh." Steve rubbed the back of his neck. Mentioning Lynn was a bad idea; now he felt tense and incapable. Volstagg glanced between the two Avengers and reciprocated Steve's earlier question.

"And Barton?"

"The healers say he'll be fine in three more days," Bruce said. "Clint says he's fine today but they won't let him go yet."

"The healers are wise, but they are also healers," Fandral said. His expression was full of empathy for Barton's position. Apparently the Warriors Three knew their way around the Æsir infirmary.

"We can't thank them enough for - all of you, really, you've been great hosts." Steve finished his heartfelt gratitude with trailing hesitation. Volstagg grasped his shoulder while Fandral nodded.

"It is no great task to host your comrades," the dashing warrior said. "And rest assured, Captain, that when the time comes the Warriors Three will accompany you to rescue the fair damsel."

"What?" Steve and Bruce both spoke at the same time, and both Æsir laughed at the stereo effect.

"You didn't think we would leave you to it? She is as much our charge as yours now, and Sif will be anxious to see if her teachings have proven fruitful."

"What am I anxious for?" The tall lady warrior entered the room wearing her training outfit and took up a pear, which she tossed from hand to hand as she glared at Fandral, expecting a tease.

"Only to see if your efforts with the Lady Creed were for naught."

Sif's face fell and she gave Steve a sharp glance, which he returned by looking away toward the food again. He selected a thin slice of ham glazed with honey, then another when the first piece proved delicious. After the third slice, he cut two slivers of bread and layered the honeyed ham between them. Through it all, he felt Sif's eyes watching him.

"When will we go after her," she finally asked.

"Once Barton's ready," Steve replied. After a meaningful _ehem_ from Fandral's direction, he added, "and Hogun." Then, to Bruce: "You already saw Clint today?"

"Natasha was here before me."

Steve looked around the room. Tony was still sleeping since the sun was barely above the horizon. Clint and Natasha were in the infirmary. Which left one of his team unaccounted for.

"Where's Thor?"

"He is at the training grounds," Sif replied, which explained the outfit. She reached out to grab Fandral's arm when he moved to walk to the grounds and visit his friend. "We will leave him be for now."

"How is he," Volstagg asked. Sif pursed her lips and her nostrils flared with temper.

"His brother is a traitor who brought enemy forces to Asgard thrice," she said. "He is as well as could be expected."

"We will repay the favor in kind in a few days hence," Fandral said. Volstagg raised a fist in solidarity of this idea, and Steve took a bite of his sandwich to avoid giving his own opinion on the matter.

"Yes," Sif said, her eyes flashing with anger. "We will."

"Sif, maybe you should -" Steve paused at the dark look she gave him, "- ah, it's just that with all of us gone it leaves Asgard open to another -"

"The more who attend, the faster the mission will go," she said. All three Æsir nodded, and Steve suspected that Thor and Hogun would have agreed as well, had they been here. He dropped his protests and focused on eating his sandwich.

* * *

The ground was hard and cold, and the wall wasn't much better. Bits of rock poked into her back, tiny nagging pinpricks which bothered her enough for her to try to shift away.

These were the first observations Lynn had as she slowly regained consciousness. The next was a combination of a realization that both hands were hovering in the air next to her head, and wondering _why_ they hovered there as though held. By the time she realized why, she'd also recognized that she was sitting leaned against a wall and the air smelled familiar - death, or blood, or metal, and something else she couldn't name without a species.

She opened her eyes though this made no difference - they could communicate no information any longer, save that the air was somewhat dry. She shook and stared ahead blankly, pupils dilated as her body fought back the shock and panic. If she let it win she'd be overwhelmed entirely.

"Miss Creed, are you awake?"

She jerked. The shackles around her wrists clinked at the movement; she blinked several times and murmured, "JARVIS?"

"Yes, Miss Creed." The A.I. sounded relieved and despite knowing it was only a machine, her mind immediately constructed a friendly face to accompany the voice. She was alone, but with JARVIS in her ear she couldn't be _alone_, could she? Her brain believed it, and that was good enough for her.

"I thought you were, were..."

"The lenses were taken, but my casing and microphone were left with you."

Lynn had never told anyone how JARVIS worked, which meant only she and Tony knew that the A.I. lived in the charm on her necklace.

"Tell me what I missed."

"You have been unconscious for eighteen hours." She flinched and shook her legs. Nothing clicked near her ankles; she started pushing herself to her feet, touching the wall behind her to check for obstacles. She didn't want to hurt herself if a ledge was sticking out further than anticipated.

"I cannot translate the Chitauri language without access to my data files on Mr. Stark's server."

"So you have no clue what they've been talking about." She was standing now. She moved her hands and found the chains slack and drifting upward. It was a large change to the binds from before. She grabbed the left chain and began following it up along the links, until she stretched onto her toes and couldn't reach higher. She dropped her hands and backed away from the wall, and found herself with two full steps of space before the metal stopped her.

"So what can you tell me, since you can't see either?"

"We are just below 2,400 meters in altitude, and the temperature is two degrees Celsius -"

"Stark put you in SI for me, didn't he?"

"Yes. Would you prefer metric?"

"Please. I can't do the conversions in my head yet." She wished she could. It would give her something else to focus on, something that didn't involve this place, the chains, panic - or the overwhelming sense of betrayal beating at her.

_Don't think about it._

"Very well," the A.I. said. "It is thirty-five degrees Fahrenheit and we are just below 8,000 feet elevation. You may experience dizziness and shortness of breath at this altitude. You must remain vigilant, Miss Creed."

"Great," she said. If she started to hyperventilate, she could say it was related to the elevation and not the panic gnawing angrily at her.

Lynn shivered and rubbed her hands against her arms. She was dressed for warm Asgardian days, not cold Chitauri...whatever it was. At least she had a pair of Sif's pants on. The fabric bunched around her bare feet and helped to keep her toes warm. She kicked out her leg and circled it in the air a few times, then repeated the action with her other leg, creating a small bundle of cloth underneath both feet to protect them from the bare floor. It would have to do for now.

As she rubbed her arms, she paused and pressed gently against her upper arms. Slight pain made her wince - she had bruises from, from -

"Has Loki been around?" She didn't want to know, not really. She remembered her own assertions in regards to the god: he was a trickster, and his reasoning would never make sense to her.

But she still asked.

"Mr. Odinson brought you here and secured you in place."

"How do you know it was him?"

"He has a very distinct temperature pattern."

Lynn perked up. "Do Æsir have a different temperature?"

"In general, the Æsir you have encountered are a few degrees warmer than a human. However, Mr. Odinson is several degrees cooler."

"_Several_ degrees?" She leaned back against the wall and ignored the myriad of pinpricks. "But humans can't be more than a few degrees either way without problems. So we're colder than Æsir, and he's still colder than us?"

"It is enough of a difference to possibly indicate a separate species, Miss Creed." JARVIS obviously knew where she was going with this, and she bit her bottom lip. How relevant could this be? Did the Æsir know that Loki wasn't one of them? Or was the Loki they saw now not the original? That could explain a lot. She'd overheard several conversations between Avengers and Æsir alike discussing Loki's drastic changes, all within the past few years. Could this explain the changes?

She wanted to tell someone her theory - and when she started to wonder who she should tell, she remembered that she was trapped worlds away from the Avengers, or Jane, or anyone else. And the reminder struck her with such force that she sucked in a sharp gasp - and the air was too thin, it was _too thin_ and she could hardly breathe at all, and now she was shaking badly, so badly -

"Miss Creed. Listen to my voice, Miss Creed. Focus on my words." And JARVIS suddenly vanished, replaced by a loud horn. The trumpet blared a jazzy rhythm in her ear; she cried out and held a hand over the microphone until JARVIS lowered the volume. Her heart rate slowed as the song continued.

"I-is that 'Hi dee ho?'" It seemed improbable and her voice reflected her doubt.

"It is," JARVIS said, and the music continued to play behind his voice. "Mr. Stark found your digital music collection and uploaded the entirety into my database."

"I thought Apple wasn't compatible with anything." _Distract, distract, distract_. She knew the A.I.'s game now, and she wanted to help him in his goal. The less she thought about reality, the better.

"I believe Mr. Stark took that as a challenge."

"He seems to take most things as a challenge." She was really shaking now; the cold, dry air leeched warmth from her skin and left her with chattering teeth. "Is there anywhere warmer?"

"I'm afraid not."

"I can't just stand here and freeze." How had she not frozen while unconscious? "Play something upbeat. I can practice."

"As you wish, Miss Creed." The music changed to a hyper electronic mix. Lynn tried to remember the stances Sif taught her and assumed the first that came to mind. She began punching the air, stopping every fourth punch to jump from foot to foot. Anything to stay in motion.

She ignored the incessant rattling from her wrists and the wall, as the chains clanked against the rock in protest of her movements.

She was halfway through her second set of somewhat-remembered moves when the music stopped.

"JARVIS?" She straightened and dropped her hands. "What's -"

Footsteps. Heavy, thudding footsteps. Her chest clenched as her lungs constricted; her heart hammered against her ribcage. She shrank back against the prickly rock wall, then contorted until her knees met the ground and she could sit. She curled her knees to her chest, hands dangling awkwardly beside her head.

"Miss Creed," JARVIS began, and she flinched away from the sudden voice. "Listen to my voice. You must remain calm. The harder you breathe, the harder your lungs will have to work for oxygen. You will cause yourself to lose consciousness once more." JARVIS prattled on about lung capacity and oxygen density in the air, and though she only half-listened the matter-of-fact recitation of facts gave her something other than those footsteps to focus on.

They stopped. Lynn concentrated on small, deep breaths.

"On your feet, little _mortal_."

"Miss Creed, you should stand." JARVIS sounded so calm and friendly. She started to uncurl to obey him -

A hand with too many fingers grabbed her bruised upper arm and hauled her to her feet. She cried out once, then gritted her teeth. The hand around her arm squeezed until she cried out again.

"Do not try to be _brave_," the monster hissed. "Courage will not _impress_ us."

Us_._ She swallowed the thick lump of nothing in her throat. Who was "us?"

"I'm not -"

"_Silence_. You will speak when _allowed._"

She clenched her jaw and waited for a gag. It never came. He still had her arm, and shook her hard before letting go with a shove backward. She leaned against the wall and rubbed her arm.

_Leave us._ The footsteps started again, the heavy beat of thick soles against the floor. She thought of Thor and then shoved the memories away. When the footsteps stopped again, she knew that whoever this was, the Voice she'd heard so many times, was only a few feet away.

She closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing. In and out, deep inhalations she felt down to her toes. Her body was already cooled down from her previous exercise, and the cold seeped through to her feet and started moving up her legs. She shivered and clenched her toes.

_You will speak with me._ She didn't respond. In and out. JARVIS murmured gentle encouragement in her ear.

_Do you understand?_ Lynn nodded. A footstep pounded in front of her and she pressed herself back into the wall. The prickling against her arms distracted her enough to remain focused on her breathing. _Speak if you understand. I will not accept your silence._

"Does it matter?" She whispered past the fear and through her confusion. They could pull her thoughts straight out of her head. Why did this thing care if she spoke aloud or not?

Apparently it only cared if she replied with her voice. Her question merited no response. She began rubbing her upper arms, and her teeth started chattering again. It was so _cold_ -

_The Asgardian has become attached to you, has he not?_

She shook her head. A slight hiss erupted in front of her and she quickly said, "no, he said I'm for -"

_A tether, yes._ A slight rustle, and a finger traced her collarbone and linked through the chain around her neck. It pulled forward until she felt the charm lift from her skin, and kept pulling until she was forced to move in the same direction. It stopped pulling.

_And yet you have this Asgardian trinket. Who gifted this to you, if not he?_

Asgardian? She panted and shook her head. She'd never asked what the pendant looked like. Tony must have created it to blend in while she stayed in the Golden Realm. A ridiculously sentimental gesture that brought tears to her closed eyes. The salt water burned against her lids and she choked out:

"N-not Loki, it was one of the Avengers -"

_The mortals?_ A hint of suspicion. _A mortal gifted you this?_

"Yes."

_Tell me of these mortals._

At this, her resolve returned. She clenched her jaw and shook her head, knowing that this thing could just rip the information from her. It didn't matter. She wouldn't betray them of her own free will.

_No?_ Now she could hear laughter without hearing a word. _You refuse to tell me? Perhaps a gift will soften your mood._ The charm was lowered to her chest again, and the finger which held it joined its brothers to splay across her clavicle. She jerked back until she connected with the splintered wall again, and the hand continued forward until it held her in place. She couldn't shift to either side to escape the touch; she turned her head to the side and waited for the pain.

_Open your eyes, little mortal._ The tone was almost friendly, and certainly gentle. She bit her bottom lip and shook her head. _Open them by choice or by force._ She opened them - and shut them again with a gasp of pain. Light, colors, forms - her brain struggled to register the information. _Open them, now._ She tried again, slitting her eyelids until the information overload died away and her pupils adjusted to any light at all. She blinked and stared at...

Purple wasn't the first color that came to mind when she thought of torturers and world conquerors. The face was long and ridged, as though carved from hot magma as it cooled. Golden fluting graced a dark helmet and continued across the rest of its - his - armor. And the eyes were glowing. Literally glowing. The shine seemed to shift when he smiled at her; amethyst which adjusted to yellow depending on the light, and the angle, and how wide his eyelids were.

The hand stayed against her. She swallowed thickly and his smile widened to show teeth.

_A gift of sight. But only - _he removed his hand and the black slammed across her vision so abruptly that she yelped and raised a hand to fend off the sudden darkness - _only in my presence._ The hand returned, this time to grip the forearm of the defending limb. _Open._

She opened her eyes and blinked at him.

_Tell me of the Avengers_.

She dropped her eyes and shook her head. She wasn't brave enough to defy him to his face. The hand traveled up and up her arm, gripped her throat for a moment, then hooked under her jaw and pulled her eyes back to his. The smile was still present, with more teeth. A grimace. The eyes shone intensely.

_You will tell me._ He sounded so certain, a foregone conclusion that she only needed to stop resisting. She clenched her jaw and he chuckled; he could feel the muscles of her face tightening and understood the motion.

_I wonder what the godking would think, if you were harmed._

She blinked and creased her brow. Was he talking about Loki? There was an easy answer for that. "He wouldn't care."

_No? Perhaps we shall test this. The little godking craved war. _It was so odd to see his lips moving, to know he was speaking and yet feel the words deep inside. As though his voice was too powerful for her mind to comprehend, and she could only hear the aftermath of that voice when it was done speaking. _Very well._

He advanced and she shrank into the wall, as far as allowed. She didn't know what he wanted to do.

_That makes you a hostage of war. A woman. No better than a spoil._ He seemed amused with her reaction and kept her chin in his hand to prevent her from looking away. She didn't try closing her eyes.

_A spoiled woman is the essence of war._ She tried to jerk her chin out of his hand, and he held fast. Fear made her blood flow faster. He couldn't mean - he couldn't -

He knew her thoughts. The humor grew into chuckling, and then laughter, and she shivered and continued trying to pull her face from his hand, over and over again until he laid his forehead to hers and she was crammed between his hands and his face and the wall.

_Do you think he would protect you with no one else to do so? Oh, little mortal._ His other hand stroked her cheek and she gasped, trying to hold back her sobs. _I will teach you of life. I will teach you of hope. I will show you how neither matters, in the end._

His hand was travelling now, and there was nowhere to shrink to. She cried out in fear and his smile was a lover's caress.

_My servant tells me you will assist me in the retaking of your world_.

She shook her head, desperate and ready to beg. His hand braced her jaw closed; she panted through her nose.

_Shall I return the favor? Claim victory over you as well?_

He was pressed so close. She could barely breathe against the stone surface of his body. His foot snaked between hers and pressed them aside, spreading her legs. She let out a shriek and tried to drive her finger into his throat. It didn't budge under the pressure. She tried to scratch his face, to push at him, to do anything to dislodge him. He waited until she gave up, and kissed her forehead. She thought of Natasha, and then she thought of Clint, and then she thought of the rest of them, too far away to save her from anything at all.

She felt the breath from his lips as he whispered against hers, even though she had yet to _hear _a single word.

_I will show you what victory tastes like._ Lynn closed her eyes then and wept quietly, frozen against the wall and wracked with uncontrollable shaking. For a time, the only sounds were of her hands scrabbling against his armor and her hitching, wet breaths.

_Open your eyes._ She whimpered and lifted her lids, then gasped and tried to shove away, to the side.

Mr. Turner.

The smile was the same. The rest of him - the hair, the face, the eyes, even the clothing - her fingers scraped at skin and a ratty Argyle sweater instead of armor. She became desperate.

"This isn't real," she shouted, "it's not real!"

_No._ She blinked, and this time she didn't recognize the face. A shorter man with blond hair, blue eyes and tight black leather. A quiver of arrows poked over his shoulder.

"But does your mind abide?" Clint's voice. She beat both fists against his chest and he laughed. She blinked again - bright costume, tall and muscular, she didn't need to hear the voice to know this one - she blinked again, and this must be Thor, a shining Asgardian warrior with a bright red cape - she closed her eyes and refused to open them again. The baritone laughter echoed against the wall behind her, reflected back into her ears. She covered her ears and shook her head. Hands grabbed both wrists and pulled them away.

"Come now, Amma Lynn. You are being difficult." She jerked and opened her eyes to stare at Loki's native form - the armor, the sharp glare, the cynical brow. Was this how he looked when he spoke to her? The circles under his eyes - the complexion - he didn't look at all like before, when she saw him in the cafe. Was this how he looked now?

She thought of Clint, and Steve in his Captain America gear, and Thor in his armor - just like the news reports. Echoes in time of how they'd looked during the battle in New York, when this thing must have been observing from afar. How?...through Loki. The set of eyes he allied with and relied upon during that time. But he hadn't seen Loki only during those days - he must have seen him recently, within the past day. Was this how Loki looked _now_?

"You're not Loki," she said. It was easier to be brave when she was looking at the face of her betrayer.

"Of course not," he crooned. "However, the brain believes the information it is presented with. I wonder..." He leaned in close and murmured into her ear as she tried to pull away. "As I take you, and defile you, will you remember that I am not they? In your terror and panic, will you understand, and know, that it is not those you trust who violate you?"

"Stop it." She shook her head and he leaned back. "Stop -"

She must have blinked. It was Mr. Turner again, who winked at her in the same way he had so many times in the past before sharing a tune. "You know I don't let the girls date, Lynn, because boys want a lot of things that just mean trouble for girls." And the hands were grabbing now, in places Mr. Turner had never touched her, _had never touched her -_

"Stop it!" She was screaming and pushing at his chest. He felt human, and warm, and movable - but no matter how he looked, he was still not Mr. Turner. And now it wasn't Mr. Turner anymore but Clint again, who looked so stern and sounded so matter-of-fact as he explained the facts.

"This is how it will be," Clint said. She slammed her eyes shut and kept them shut. She didn't care if he ripped them out of her head, she would not let herself _see_ this as it happened.

_Unless_, he leaned away, _you tell me everything you know._

"Can't you hear it anyway," she begged, and she hated her cracking voice, so filled with terror. "Can't you just take my thoughts?"

_I will gift you one day, little mortal._ He replied as though he hadn't heard her question. She pulled her chin from his hand at the same moment he stepped away from her entirely. The darkness draped over her like a cloak, and she found this preferable. It meant he was not touching her. It meant she couldn't see the faces of those she trusted as they - as _he _-

_One day,_ he repeated, _to make your choice. _The footsteps moved away; when she could no longer hear them, she sank to the floor and curled her knees tight to her chest. She buried her face inside the hollow and shook.

* * *

Tony was insistent, and he was at his most stubborn and ornery when he was also insistent.

"I say we hit'em now. The sooner the better."

"No, Tony." Steve sounded as tired as he felt. "We need a real plan, and we have to wait for Clint and Hogun."

"Yes," Sif agreed. "We are all going this time to grant assistance to this cause."

Tony ran a hand through his hair, which left it as disjointed as his emotions. "But Lynn -"

"I know." Steve was exhausted and angry. The battle was only two days ago, and he still hadn't had enough rest to call himself awake. Tony and Bruce appeared in the aftermath, hours after the battle was over, and so neither of them suffered from quite the same amount of exhaustion as the Avengers and Æsir who'd been present and fighting. In such a state, they were all more likely to make errors in judgment and possibly get Lynn killed. If Loki showed up during the fight, Steve already knew that there was nothing he could do to stop Sif from going into a rage of vengeful blood lust - and he also couldn't say he'd want to stop her righteous rage. That might provoke Thor into a rage of his own, and Steve hadn't forgotten the moment in the forest when Thor tried to destroy him with the hammer of the gods for having his godly temper pricked.

Steve's bicep _still_ ached from time to time.

"We have to wait, Tony. Work with Bruce and Heimdall, get us coordinates. We'll go as soon as we can."

"But Lynn -"

"Will not be saved by a sloppy rescue. We can't botch this up."

"They'll be expecting us, Tony." Bruce spoke up in his usual demure way, keeping himself to the outskirts of the conversation. "We've already done this once. We need to plan for some kind of expectations."

"Right. So we'll give them plenty of time to plan, and stage, and -"

"And we'll use that time also, to come up with a good strategy," Steve finished. "That's where you, Bruce and Heimdall come in."

"She is in better straights than before," Sif said to Tony. "With the device which you -"

"Yeah." And Tony turned on his heel and left the room. Bruce shrugged at Steve and Sif, then walked after his friend to catch up. Steve looked at Sif.

"What device?"

"I believe Lynn called it 'JARVIS' while training."

"You mean the glasses?" Sif nodded; Steve was bewildered. "The glasses were JARVIS? Tony _shared_ technology?" Sif nodded again, this time looking concerned as Steve tried to digest this. He'd read the file and he'd seen the footage. He'd watched the Congressional hearing. He'd heard speech after speech from Iron Man about how his technology was his alone and wouldn't be shared with anyone, for any reason. An assertion bordering on paranoia. He'd only allowed one other person to have a suit - the only person that Tony seemed to actually trust, a friend who from what Steve knew could be trusted not to abuse the suit.

Only once, to a trusted friend. And no one else. Until now.

"Wow," he said. Sif had turned away and was mixing a glass of cloudy water with her finger. She turned back to him and offered the glass, which he took with a belated "thanks." He looked into the cup and hesitated when he saw the cloudy color. Sif, by now, had mixed a second and was holding this to her lips.

She took a healthy swig, then waited for him to join her. He did, slowly and carefully. The water tasted vaguely of chalk and sugar. He lowered the drink.

"What is this?"

"It is a sleeping draught," she said. He raised his eyebrows. "It will not force you to sleep, only assist should you try. It is called Stilnoct."

"I've been sleeping fine," he lied. She didn't bother pretending she believed him.

"Go to your quarters, Steve, and rest. I have already sent Thor and Natasha; Fandral and Volstagg have little trouble resting before or after a great battle."

"But you do."

"There are times, when it is harder."

Steve finished the drink and set the glass on the table. "I'm sorry about the horses."

Sif tilted her head. "It is not the horses I was worried for." She took his arm in a companionable grip. A warrior's gesture of assurance, from one to another. "You are a dear friend now, and I would not have you injured while under my care."

He clasped her arm in return. "I could say that too."

She laughed. "Then let us look out for each other, after a hearty rest."

"That sounds like a great plan," he said with a tired smile. "Lead the way."

* * *

"Miss Creed, I believe you should tell what you know," JARVIS said after an hour of silence. She'd spent the time curled into the smallest ball she could manage and shivering, trying everything in her power to think of anything except what that thing had proposed.

"I can't do that," she said. Her voice was small and hollow. She didn't want to attract attention, even though no one was in the room with her. "It would be wrong."

"You would not be blamed for your choice."

"I would blame me."

JARVIS did not respond with words. Instead, a quiet, soothing song started to play. She choked out a sob and covered both ears with her hands. It quieted the outside world, and increased the volume in the ear where JARVIS played the music.

_Alms for the poor_

_For the wretched disciples_

The song was so quiet and sober. She felt her muscles start to relax as the tension drained away.

_And the love that they swore_

_With their hearts on the bible_

She murmured along, checking her pitch in the empty ear against the notes in the other.

"Beseeching the honor," she sang quietly, "to sit at your table, and feast on your holiness, as long as they're able..."

By the time the mournful guitar took up the repetitive melody she had released both ears. She curled her toes in and bit her bottom lip.

"I always wondered what that song means."

JARVIS spoke over the music. "I believe it is not a cheerful song."

"Thanks, JARVIS." She felt better, at least for a little while. "That helped."

"You're welcome." And he played another song when the current tune ended, and another, and on through the next hour. She managed to find a somewhat comfortable position and leaned her head back. She closed her eyes and just listened to the music. She let the lyrics and melodies fill her head until she couldn't hear her own thoughts.

Halfway through the third hour, a familiar voice interrupted her self-induced catatonia.

"Amma Lynn," it said, and the reaction was immediate. The music shut down as she jerked to her feet and curled away into the wall, trying to vanish into the stone. Had he changed his mind? Would he visit her throughout the day to remind her of what was at stake? Would he touch her?...

Was a Chitauri day shorter than an Earth day?

She clawed at the wall unconsciously and tried to remember to breathe.

"Go away," she said, "you gave me a day, a _whole_ day, you said -"

"Amma Lynn, we have not spoken today."

She bit her bottom lip. What game was this? When the hand touched her she shrieked and jerked away; it returned with a second to grip both of her upper arms in a tight grasp. Pain from the bruising made her whimper; the grip loosened.

"What is the meaning of this?" He sounded angry. She opened her eyes to see what he might be thinking -

And saw nothing. The same blackness as before.

"You're not that thing."

"What thing?"

"He's purple, and his eyes -"

"That is Thanos. No. I am not he."

"You hurt my arms." Both hands let go instantly. Loki made a noise of sympathy. She hadn't bothered looking at the bruises while Thanos...she'd been distracted. They must look impressive.

"I apologize. I did not intend to injure you."

Lynn was shaking. Loki was _here_. "You brought me here."

He sounded angry again. "I saved your miserable life. I thought humans were better at thanks."

"Saved my life to bring me here?" Her pupils were wide, dilated in her fear despite their uselessness. The trickster snarled at her.

"You'd have died, immediately, if I did not give you purpose. Are you not grateful?" That shook a laugh from her, full of desperation and on the verge of pleading.

"Grateful? No. Did you think, for even a second, that I might not want to be here again? _Not ever again_?"

"No," he said. "I did not realize you'd choose to die over -"

"You took that choice away from me." The first tear fell and she shuddered. She didn't want to cry. She paused and took several deep breaths to pull herself together, then continued. "You took it and brought me here. _Here_. How is this better?"

Loki was quiet for a long while. She thought he might have left her alone, and realized too late that he might have helped her out of this.

"JARVIS," she said as more tears fell, "is he gone?"

"I am unsure, Miss Creed." The lack of outside response was enough. He would've replied to her question if he'd still been there. She'd yelled him away, and now she was alone again with an impossible choice. She began to crumble under the weight of her actions, her choice and the inevitability of her betrayal.

Tears came freely now. She sniffled and whimpered and covered her face with both hands, shielding herself from the black with more black. "I'm sorry," she whispered to the air, "I'm sorry. Come back." She shook so hard that the chains rattled. She was cold, and she was scared, and she'd driven off the closest thing to an ally in this entire place.

_I should have told him the deal,_ she scolded herself. _Instead I got mad. This was a bad time to get mad._

Hands, again. This time she didn't jolt or shriek. She clung to the offered comfort as the stress overflowed. The hands were gentle, the embrace solid, as arms encircled her and pulled her to a leather and metal chest.

"I am still here," Loki murmured into her hair. She clutched at the folds of whatever he was wearing and keened out her tension. "I am here, Amma Lynn."

With no more anger left to her name, she wept, and he held her.


	21. The Blue

_Since by coincidence I just had Tony and Bruce separated from the rest of the Avengers with a fantastic reason for why the Avengers didn't get involved in certain events, I leave it to the audience to decide if Tony has, shall we say, moved on from the past. It makes no difference to the story right now, so it's up to you to decide for yourself!_

* * *

_You two've got just moments left to give_

_Come back now and we will let you live_

_Stay inside our blue protective eye_

_We won't let them take you, we won't let you die_

* * *

It was an odd sort of moment when Loki realized that someone was clinging to him as their personal lifeline. He held her with detached surprise at the simultaneous occurrence of two events which culminated into this one. He offered comfort, and that comfort was accepted with neither hesitation nor resentment. Every portion of this decision baffled him.

That he had done it.

That she had let him.

_I should think I know your weaknesses better than any other. _The echo of Frigga's voice plagued him. He felt exposed and soft, to be so easily manipulated into what his false mother wanted of him. Even now, with this mortal clasped to his chest while she dampened his armor with her tears, he served Frigga's intentions more than his own.

Yet the decision to offer this solace was his alone. He was not fool enough to think that Lynn was capable of any higher functions when in such a state. She had been distressed and desperate, hardly a time to exercise selectivity.

She was calming herself, though the trembling did not cease. He was concerned - what had Thanos done to agitate her so? She had no injuries aside from the blue and purple hand prints on her arms - Loki's mark on her person, and a grim reminder of the brittle nature of her species. How easily broken these mortals were.

She was breathing evenly now. He could argue her lack of discerning decision making skills before, when she was overcome by hysterics. Now, with only their quiet breathing in the air, he found himself uncertain of her rationale. He could pull himself away, of course. He could push her back, gently, by the shoulders. He could ask if she were better, which might prompt a sudden awkward realization of her positioning and cause her to pull away on her own.

He remained still and waited. To see what she would do.

"You said you wouldn't touch me," she said. Her voice was small and broken. "Without my consent."

Damn these mortals and their hopes. They latched to the smallest phrases as though the phrase itself were their salvation. He did pull away now, jaw clenched in anger. She hugged herself and dipped her head down as though staring at the floor.

He did not look at her arms.

"I had forgotten," he said. She laughed and the sound was strained.

"No you didn't." _You just didn't care_. Perhaps she wasn't brave enough to say it, or worried that she would drive him away with the accusation. He felt the words regardless. The air between them hummed.

"How did you know about my name?"

The sudden shift in topic threw him. He creased his brow and tilted his head, both motions wasted in the absence of her lenses. He raised his hands and waved them, palm over palm. The lenses materialized in a shimmer of power, and he slid the glasses onto her nose before she could protest.

She stood stock still. He heard a slight buzz to the right side of her head - the machine communicating with her. She tilted her head back, and back, and looked directly into his face. He smiled.

"JARVIS," she said, "how does he look?"

What a strange little mortal. He scoffed.

"You ask pointless questions."

"It's only pointless to you." She sounded distracted, listening to that tiny hiss of sound. Her next comment was a noncommittal "hm," which told him nothing. He waited for the statement he knew would come. _But I thought you'd crushed them_, she'd say, and finger the lenses, mystified by the circumstances. He was prepared; his response was both flippant and dismissive, to downplay a good deed and be more endearing to an audience.

Lynn started turning instead, and he realized she was taking stock of the entire quarters. In truth, the cell contained little by way of interesting distractions. She was attached to the wall, and the chains themselves were hooked far above where her hands could reach. This was the only disturbance in an otherwise drab, gray room.

She worried her bottom lip, looking at him again. "Do you have a blanket," she stated.

"What?" He furrowed his brow.

"A blanket or, or something warm? It's really cold."

"Is that all you have to say?" He was annoyed with her. Was she too foolish to understand what he'd done? Did she not care?

"Can I ask for help yet?" She pulled the glasses away from her face and pointed them at herself. The tinny hiss in her ear irked him further.

"I have already _helped_ you." She put the glasses back on and looked at him.

"Thanks," she said. He laughed and turned away to begin a circling pace about the small quarters, unable to stand still in his irritation. She raised her voice behind him. "Wait, don't go -"

"I am not leaving." He turned back to her; despite her blindness, her eyes were wide and fearful. She seemed to calm herself within a few moments, as the machine communicated that he was still present. She rubbed her open palms against her arms to try and smooth away the goose pimples.

"What am I supposed to say?" She sounded resigned, as though she resented the question. "Is it the glasses? I'm supposed to ask where they came from?"

He tried not to react, and this was enough. The hiss in her ear persisted and she shrugged.

"I'm not a _total_ idiot. It was an illusion. Right? You made me h-hear it -" she stopped and took a deep breath, unbalanced in the memory - "before you brought me here." He narrowed his eyes. Would she be overcome with emotions again? Neither of them had such time.

"Yes," he said. It calmed her. Loki shook his head at her, puzzled. How was it that he could predict her needs so accurately, yet so often missed her reactions? "Ask for further assistance, then. Perhaps I shall be merciful enough to grant it."

"Blanket." Lynn didn't demand or insist, merely repeated her request. "Do you feel the cold at all?"

"No." He had no blankets to offer. He reached through the air and drew forth a long green cloak - his own cape, re-purposed to grant her appeal. He stepped closer and swung the cloth in an arc to wrap over her shoulders. In a sudden impulse for frivolity, he draped the edge over her head to cover her face - and the machine's lenses.

"Jerk," she said, and she laughed when she said it. She adjusted the fabric to a comfortable shawl. He found his eyes drawn downward to see how the cloth pooled around her feet. The volume of unused fabric puddling around her toes was visual emphasis that she was terribly small, even for a mortal.

"I'm over five feet," she said defensively. The machine must have understood his expression. He smirked and she huffed.

"Are you Æsir?" Loki jolted back. Had Thanos given him away? It seemed an odd topic to address with a prisoner but the Titan was, after all, mad.

"I'm just curious," she added. "JARVIS says your body temp is lower than humans, which is already lower than Æsir. Most animals can't handle big changes like that - it could be a species indicator, if -"

"Does it matter?" he rasped. His teeth ground. She pulled the cape tighter around herself.

"It's not that strange. Humans adopt from other countries. They adopt other species a lot, too. Dogs and cats, and other things - not as smart as another person, but they become family anyway." She bit her lip, then continued in a quieter voice. "You don't have to be from the same place to be family."

He allowed the scowl he had fought so diligently to spread across his face. "Do you have any further emotional nonsense to jibber?"

"No," she said. Then: "Maybe. I don't do it on purpose. It's just that you, you - does Asgard have different music styles?"

"What?" The total confusion in his voice was in no way feigned.

"Different music. You know - kids listen to different stuff, adults complain about the crap kids listen to?"

"No."

"Oh." She tapped her ear where the machine spoke with her. "You seem like you could've used some Rage."

It was not that he did not find the topic worth discussing - he only had no inkling of what she meant, or how to carry the conversation forward. By his account, he carried enough rage to last several of her lifetimes.

"You never answered, about my name." Lynn seemed to grow more animated as her body warmed under the cloak, and Loki found himself floundering to try and decipher her train of thought. He let the struggle go, and merely focused on her words as they came.

"No," he said. "I did not." He was rewarded with a pair of narrowed eyes and flaring nostrils. She was easily provoked, when she was not chasing her own tail.

"So? How?"

Loki started pacing, unable to remain still any longer. "If I answer your question, with full honesty, will you reciprocate?"

"I can't know if you're honest."

"You can assume I am not. But I will know if you lie."

Lynn seemed to consider this decision carefully. Even such a small deal with the trickster perturbed her. He was gratified to see her hesitation - though he also regretted the length of the pause.

"Ok," she said. "Fine." He smiled and she looked nervous when the hissing informed her of his expression.

"I assisted with the construction of the device which your Avengers used to navigate to the Chitauri. During that time, I was privy to your information via a SHIELD file."

She looked perplexed. "SHIELD has a file on me?"

"Yes."

She did not seem entirely comfortable with the thought. With his own experiences with the same organization, and more the knowledge of what their agents - and the organization itself - were capable of, Loki could not fault her for her caution.

Now it was his turn to ask a question and be granted an honest answer.

"Why did you fear my voice?"

As her body language shifted to sudden defeat, he realized that in warming she was neither more animated nor bolder - she had simply forgotten the state of affairs, for a short while. And now, with his question, she remembered. Though he lacked the ability to hear her thoughts, he watched as reality draped itself across her shoulders as surely as he had draped the cloak. She seemed weighed down, heavier under the brunt of whatever thoughts now marred her mind. Loki felt concerned to see her life fade away to anxiety.

She said nothing, and he pressed.

"What has Thanos done to you," he added when she remained mute. She closed her eyes and shook her head. Her stubbornness prickled his temper. "If you will not tell me, I cannot help -"

"He's going to r-rape me," she snapped, and both of them startled back at her vehemence. She hugged herself and turned away. "Unless I tell him about the Avengers." Her voice warbled; she looked like a lost waif, draped in his colors and so far away. "I don't understand why. They can just pull the information out, but he, he wants me to _tell_ him -"

"They cannot access your mind." Lynn turned to him, blinking. "I have shielded both of us from them."

"That's why," she said in a tone of revelation. "He can't get it out."

Loki looked away, toward the wall where her chains fastened her in place. He felt separated from himself, a transcendent audience peering back at her confession with contemplative interest. That the Titan would threaten her in such a specific way - that Thanos would intimidate one under Loki's protection - and then he felt Frigga's words again, pounding away until he heard nothing else. He thought he might understand, now, how Thor felt upon the mountaintop when laying claim to Midgard.

_Curse you, Frigga_. His mental voice was venomous and sincere. _Curse you to the fiery bowels of Muspelheim_. _May your flesh be seared from your bones, wretched woman._

"You will tell him of your knowledge, then, and spare yourself this disgrace."

"I can't tell him anything," Lynn whispered. Loki bristled.

"You would sacrifice yourself for _nothing_ -"

"If he kills them it won't be because of me." The boldness returned in part, bolstered in response to his anger. He flared with temper and stepped toward her. She stood her ground, looking up at him but lacking the full brunt of his physical presence. He gripped her shoulders to lend weight to his words, and shook her slightly to make her pay heed.

"Your pledge is senseless. You will tell him anything he asks, and be glad for his mercy."

"I won't." She straightened under his palms and tilted her chin up, the image of human pride. The trickster hissed.

"What could you know, that would grant him such power?"

She jerked her shoulders away from his hands and stepped back. "You tried to kill them too." She shook her head, eyes brightening in the dim light as they filled. "You're with him, you're -"

Loki tilted his palms up and shook his head to show no threat. Lynn took another step away, and paused when her back met the jagged wall. Further words would continue to antagonize her. Instead, the trickster waved one palm over the other. A small cloth parcel appeared in one palm, and he drew aside the wrap to reveal a pastry filled with meat. Stored away for many days in the stasis of the in-between, the heat still rose in steamy waves from the small tear along the corner.

He offered the food with one hand, and waited. Her eyes widened as the sight before her was relayed, and her nostrils flared when the aroma reached them. She gnawed her bottom lip and stepped forward, once, with her hand outstretched. He slid the cloth parcel into her palm and stepped away.

He admitted himself impressed when she spent several seconds investigating the pastry before taking a desperate bite. She shuddered and closed her eyes before her second bite, savoring the flavor along with the satisfaction of some form of meal.

He conjured his water skin next, knowing that the food would remind her mortal body of further basic needs. When she finished the pastry he took her hand and wrapped her fingers around the neck of the skein. She sipped at first, and then guzzled. She covered her mouth with her free hand and offered the skein back to him. She kept the cloth wrapping clenched tight in her fist.

"Thank you," she said quietly, in earnest.

"You are welcome," he said.

* * *

Thor had taken Natasha's place when Clint awoke that morning, and the archer was certain that the look on the thunderer's face spelled trouble in every possible way.

"Thor," he said by way of introduction. He didn't like putting off hard conversations for later.

"Barton," Thor said, and his armor creaked as the thunderer shifted his weight. "You were the last to visit my brother before he escaped."

"Yeah, that's right." Clint knew what was coming and had no idea how to defend himself.

"The frost is melted. This was found not three paces from Loki's pedestal." Thor dropped a brittle, destroyed electronic disc onto Clint's legs. The frost-charred metal flaked onto Clint's thin blanket.

"What did you say to my brother, Barton?"

_Damn._ "Thor -"

"I seek your rationale, not your apology."

Clint took a deep breath. "I told him we could nuke Asgard to get rid of him." Clint watched the thunder god's blue eyes darken to cloudy gray. "If he made us."

"What was the purpose of antagonizing him?" Thor sounded like he could chew rocks to powder between his teeth. Clint thought he heard thunder in the distance.

"It was a bluff, Thor. He needed to believe we'd do it. The Chitauri came to Asgard, and Loki didn't open that portal. He had nothing to do with it. I wanted to know just how bad the guy in charge is." Clint ran a hand through his hair. "That's when he snapped. I said we'd throw him to the Tesseract and let whoever wanted come calling - and _that's_ when he blew the room."

"What did you learn?"

"He's scared of whoever it is. Enough to let it show." Thor's cloudy eyes seemed close to black from the intensity of his emotions. Loki was not the sort of man who showed fear willingly without calculation involved. Was this an attempt to force sympathy from those who heard the tale?

Or, worse, was his little brother truly so terrified that his masks slipped away for a moment of time?

"My father knows his master," the thunderer said. "He is an entity called the Mad Titan, or Thanos, who seeks to unmake creation."

Clint pushed himself to sitting; his wrapped arm twinged and he ignored it. "When you say 'creation' -"

"Thanos is after the Infinity Gauntlet, which holds the power to destroy all." When Thor left "all" generalized, Clint felt a shiver run across both arms and along his neck. "The Gauntlet was stolen during the attack. My father takes heart in our continued existence. This is evidence that Loki is deceiving more than Asgard."

"You think he's double crossing Thanos?"

Thor nodded and reached for Clint's wrapped arm. The archer spent the time until Thor's fingers found him debating whether he should try to run, realizing that he couldn't outrun the thunder god when he was _right there_, and resigning himself to whatever Thor was about to do.

Thor tugged at the bandages, seeking out the tie which held them in place. When he found the tight knot he heaved and tore the knot in two, then began slowly unraveling the bindings from Clint's arm.

Clint looked down as his arm revealed itself under the cloth. The skin was pale and slightly yellowed, wrinkled in grotesque patterns. He scowled. When Thor finished, he lifted the arm and clenched his fist, then rotated his shoulder around the joint. A few pops, some pressure - otherwise, the movement was smooth. He flexed his bicep and nodded.

When Thor began pulling at his blanket, he jolted and grabbed it to hold it in place. "I'll take care of those."

Thor looked perplexed, but sat back and drew his hands away. Clint breathed a sigh of relief; he much preferred to handle his legs on his own.

"Do you feel well enough to fight?" the thunderer asked. "Hogun will remain behind, for his hand pains him greatly still - he will stand with us in spirit." The beleaguered expression told Clint how well the Asgardian had taken the news. "We cannot wait for his wound to mend. The woman Lynn Creed remains in terrible danger while we wait, and my brother..."

Thor's voice trailed away. He stood suddenly and Clint swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He eyed the bandages, then waved to the thunderer when he found the knots. Thor broke the binds and Clint began unwrapping his legs. He kept his eyes down as he spoke.

"I had a brother," he said, and Thor looked at him. They remained quiet while Clint finished his task, stood and stretched his muscles. He braced one foot against the bed and leaned his weight forward, then repeated with the other leg. He straightened and looked at Thor.

"I feel fine. Let's get to it."

* * *

Lynn grew drowsy after eating and drinking her fill, and Loki felt a greater inclination to explore than watch her try to stay awake in his presence. He took his leave of her with a pledge to return. She insisted that he take the glasses back while away, to keep them safe. He obliged.

This mountain was home to several thousand Chitauri, who scuttled through the corridors of their carved home as giant termites, twittering to each other. The trickster paid them no mind; they were lesser and deserved none of his regard. Only their leader caught his ear, and that on rare occasions.

He sought neither their leader nor their master now. He came upon a split in the cave system and turned toward the brightest entrance, which billowed warm air into the otherwise cold atmosphere. The great dome opened ahead with the sun blazing in the center. Loki paused to watch a solar flare leap from the roiling surface and lick at the surrounding air before plummeting back into the surface of the miniature sun. The sight was beautiful, though he could have done without the heat and regretted his insistence on creating such a likeness.

Loki turned away from the sun and walked the Nine. He had elevated scrying to a profoundly powerful weapon with these creations under Thanos' guidance. Each pedestal granted the observer the opportunity to view any location within the realm. With the Tesseract's power to enhance his own, the planets became less an enigma and more a physical presence made of reproducible elements, represented by scale models.

He bypassed Jötunheimr for Asgard, but paused when he saw the state of the Midgardian platform. He walked closer and saw a deep gouge within the front of his creation; as he observed, a flicker of blue Tesseract light attempted to reconstruct the broken base. The sight reminded him of Thor's lightning as the blue poked and prodded along the shattered stone before retreating back into the pedestal.

_How curious_, he thought. Had Thanos done this in a rage after losing Midgard? It seemed a small amount of damage for the Titan. Perhaps the Chitauri leader took out his frustrations against the trickster's creation.

Weighted footsteps pulled his attention backward, where Thanos entered the room and paused upon seeing the trickster. They regarded one another for several long seconds, until Thanos broke a smile across his features.

_My friend_, he rumbled. _How I have missed your company_.

"You keep fools for minions," Loki said. "I imagine conversation is stimulating with the slag. 'Dearest Master, I will forever serve you.'"

_Is that not what you wanted from Midgard?_ Thanos stepped closer, looking at the destroyed pedestal where Loki stood. _To conquer all, to rule uncontested - is there greater victory than this?_

"Your fools lost Midgard for me." Loki waved a hand to the model, where another blue light flickered in a desperate dance to mend its wounds. "I see the regard given me for my failure."

_That was not I._

"No? The slag, then - predictable in his outrage. Did he try to convince you of his innocence?"

_No_, Thanos said, and reached to pluck a clump of stone from the shattered model. _The little mortal did this._

Loki scoffed. "She is hardly strong enough to hold herself on her own feet." Thanos watched him, and the trickster raised his eyebrows as time passed. "You jest."

_No._ Thanos tossed the broken slab to the ground, where it clattered against the wall. _She escaped._

Not from Thanos, such a thought was impossible. Which left the Other, in all his nervous despair upon seeing the Gauntlet gone. Loki laughed.

"He lost you the Earth, and then he lost the _mortal_? It is a wonder that you let him live."

_One further task, to prove himself._ Thanos folded his arms behind his broad back. _To allow me to provide a great bounty to my love._

"Ah, yes. I discovered him seeking out your Gauntlet - his forces were too long delayed, and it was hidden away by the All-Father himself, as I told him. Your slag listens not."

_A third failure in so little time. He is granted his final attempt, before I choose another to lead in his stead._

"Another chance? Your mercy is boundless." Loki hid neither his sneer nor his criticism. He had performed as agreed and warranted no punishment, and therefore felt no fear in the presence of the Titan. There was little wonder that the Chitauri leader grasped this final crumb of clemency.

_Not so boundless,_ Thanos said. _Even in failure, he serves my purposes._

Loki shook his head. "Even Death would not have him."

_It would be a bitter meal._

Loki chuckled and touched two fingers to the wrecked pedestal. "Shall I fix this? It will take several days, I would need to rebuild the entire pedestal -"

_Midgard is no longer my concern. I target the Realm Eternal, to reclaim my prize._

The Gauntlet. Loki drew his fingers away, and a flicker of the Tesseract's blue energies ghosted around his finger as he pulled. "I would retrieve it, if you wish."

_No_. The insanity trickled forth, and Thanos was staring at the sun now, his yellow eyes reflected in the swirling fires. _The mortals who defeated you are there, and I will not lose the Gauntlet to them._ Thanos reached forward and slid two fingers through the surface. A solar flare snaked along his palm and wrist, and began to climb his arm. His molten skin glowed in the heat of the fire, but otherwise remained unscathed. _I will discover their defeat soon enough._

Loki felt cold detachment settle in his chest. "How soon?"

_My servant attempts his final task now,_ Thanos said. _If he fails a final time, I will succeed in his stead._

The trickster took a moment too long to understand the underlying message. The cold settled deeper inside him, spreading from his chest to his limbs until he felt nothing but the chill of frost. Thanos departed, thinking the trickster lost in thought or otherwise engaged in his ponderings over repairing the pedestal.

Once the footsteps faded, Loki turned and exited the dome.

* * *

The Avengers gathered in Thor's quarters along with Fandral, Sif and Volstagg. Hogun entered behind Volstagg and glared at Thor, daring the thunderer to say a word in protest. Thor smiled and clasped his old friend on the arm. Tony eyed the Æsir's casted arm and shook his head.

"Don't get killed," he said, "it'll slow us up."

Hogun nodded in response. Bruce cleared his throat and fixed them all with a mournful kind of casual look.

"Heimdall can't find them." `

"What?" Steve, who'd been leaned against the wall, straightened himself to standing. "Why not?"

"He can't see them. Apparently that's a trick that Loki pulled before," Tony said. He shrugged. "It's no big, we still have the original coordinates -"

"Are we certain that they have been taken to the same location?" Sif asked. "It is possible, after your first attack, that the Chitauri moved their bearings."

"And did anyone else notice that they knew exactly where we were?" Natasha jerked her chin in Steve's direction. "He and Sif were in the middle of nowhere."

Sif looked at Thor and spoke gently. "Thor, do you think -"

"Yes," the thunderer said. "My brother must have placed tethers upon all of us over these past many weeks, which allowed the Chitauri to target us directly."

"Well," Tony said, "that's a bitch. Can we get rid of it?"

"I will speak with the All-Father." Thor glanced at Clint, who nodded and addressed the group.

"There's something else. Loki's definitely working for someone, a guy named Thanos." The Æsir present besides Thor jolted and narrowed their eyes at the name.

"The Mad Titan?" Fandral looked uneasily at his compatriots. "Even Loki would not throw in his lot with such a creature."

"Translation for the exchange students," Tony said. Thor nodded.

"Thanos craves the Infinity Gauntlet, which holds the power to unmake all creation." Tony's eyes widened and he looked at Clint, who nodded to confirm the scientist's suspicions. "He battled my father many millennia ago, and lost the Gauntlet in the struggle, to be kept sealed away in our vaults. The Gauntlet was taken during the attack."

"Holy shit," Tony said. "So he's going to unmake _everything_?"

"He does not have it," Thor said.

"If he did, we wouldn't be here," Clint added.

"So us being here is proof he doesn't have it yet," Bruce said slowly. "That's...comforting in a twisted way."

"If he doesn't have it, who does," Tony demanded. Clint and Thor both met his eyes, and the inventor rolled his eyeballs nearly into the back of his head. "Of _course_. Whose side is he on anyway?"

"Loki would not allow the destruction of the Nine," Sif said. "He could not aspire to rule nothing." Steve laid a hand on her shoulder; she glanced from him to Thor and pursed her lips.

"So," Tony said, "we've got no specific place, but we've got coordinates. We'll beam to the Chitauri -"

"We don't have them anymore, Tony," Bruce said. Tony blinked. "We got rid of them, remember? Because of the Council..."

Steve looked between the two scientists. "We don't have them _anywhere_?"

"Too risky," Bruce said while Tony clasped a hand over his eyes and made a strangled noise. "We didn't want the Council making a decision without us."

"And we thought a pair of baby golds would get us there."

Steve considered. "Well, if he can't see their exact location -"

"No, Steve. Heimdall can't see any of it. The entire planet is hidden to him." Bruce crossed his arms loosely. "We're totally blind."

"Hold," Fandral said, "we cannot mean to leave Lynn in their possession?"

"We need a way to get there," Steve said. The press of failure began to ache between his eyes. He pinched the skin between his thumb and forefinger while flexing his fingers in long splays. To the outsider view, he was stretching his hands. For himself, he was deploying a pressure point to relieve the tension across his forehead.

"So without the coordinates, we have no way to find them," Natasha said. She peered at Tony and Bruce, who exchanged a look before Bruce nodded at her.

"Yeah, we can't beam anywhere blind."

"Where does that leave us?" Steve looked at the scientists, spies and gods. All of them looked back at him with expectant anticipation.

He pinched his skin a little harder.

"Alright," he began, "Bruce and Tony, go to Heimdall and see if he can get us anywhere near the Chitauri. Maybe we don't need to beam straight there. Clint, Natasha, start thinking strategy. We attacked them once before, so they know our pattern. Find us a new one that includes Thor's friends. You three -" he pointed to the uninjured Æsir excluding Thor "- back on reconstruction. The city needs every hand it can get. Hogun, back to the healing ward. We might have a few more days, so let's get you as close to full recovery as possible."

Tony threw his open palm into the center of the group. "Go team!" Bruce sighed and nodded at Steve to show they understood their assignment. Volstagg ducked his head in respect, then left with Hogun who was flanked by Fandral. The two Æsir would escort their stubborn friend to the healing ward as commanded. Thor waved at them to show he would soon follow, and Sif approached Steve as the remaining Avengers exited the room.

"Steve," Sif said, "what will you do?"

"I'll help you rebuild." The soldier was staring at an abandoned guitar leaned against one of Thor's chairs. He picked it up by the neck and twisted the frame to look the instrument over. There were signs of wear decorating the entire body. This was an older, well-used guitar that had seen better days. He turned it to look at the base, where a set of initials were carved into the bottom by a young hand, along with a date.

_LC 01/17/1988_

"This is Lynn's guitar," Steve said with dawning awareness. "Tony brought _her_ guitar."

"He seems a kind man," Sif said. "Though quiet in his charity."

"We won't mention it to him," Steve said as he sat in the chair and strummed a chord. Tony would just get annoyed, and they didn't have time for a spat with the testy inventor. Steve adjusted a few of the strings and tried again. The A chord rang perfectly in the room. He remembered making Lynn promise to play them a song.

"We will retrieve them both," Thor said. He stood with his arms crossed, looking out the window at the Golden Realm as the light waned into dusk. Steve began a quiet, mournful tune and let his emotions carry out the window on the warm evening breeze.

* * *

A gurgling whimper signaled that she'd had a visitor in his absence. Loki inspected the room in its entirety before entering, and approached the girl with soft footfalls. Lynn was on the floor, the cloak beneath her, her wrists dangling limply on either side of her head. Her breathing was labored and she flinched every third breath. A smear of blood dotted her lower lip. When she coughed, more appeared. Her fingers twitched; Loki heard the quiet buzzing near her ear as he approached and crouched before her.

Without a word, he reached for the left chain and traced a runic pattern against the solid metal. She sputtered a whine when she felt his hands at work and tried to pull away from him; he held her wrist and continued.

"This will take time," he said, and she stilled and opened her blank eyes. "You must be patient." His voice was as cold and hard as the rest of him.

"The monster was here," she said. Loki traced his runes. "I could see him." That made the trickster pause, and she spoke into his silence. "I saw Thanos when he, t-touched me...the monster said..."

Loki began his work again. If Thanos were able to lift the curse upon her eyes at his touch, then this truly was a reversible condition. It also seemed as though he could also grant others the same ability. The trickster bitterly mused that the Titan had never thought to teach him the same trick, which meant he could still not lift the curse from Lynn without Thanos' guidance.

Despite his anger, he worked steadily with little to distract him. Lynn remained still until a gentle _click_ echoed against the walls.

"You're freeing me," she said. Loki said nothing. "Why? There's no benefit to you in this." He still said nothing. "Answer me!"

"Must there be a benefit?" He took her hand in his and inspected her wrist. The skin was pale and somewhat raw, but otherwise undamaged. He dropped the hand, then took the other and began the same task.

She apparently had no answer to that, or if she did the buzzing in her ear talked her away from speaking. Loki could imagine the words, even without hearing the voice. _He's helping, _it must be saying, _just let him._

The second shackle clicked open and he checked her wrist again. It was in the same state as the first; he straightened and turned, waving his palms one over the other to -

The Other stood watching him. Loki paused and met the creature's masked face with a blank expression. The creature looked down to Lynn, who was rubbing her wrists and starting to pull herself to her feet using the wall. Then he fixed that mask on Loki and sneered.

"Lord Thanos will be _disappointed_ to _lose_ an _ally_."

"We are not allies." Loki recommenced waving his palms over one another, with another item in mind for the calling. Behind him, Lynn pressed herself into the wall and froze.

"And yet you _returned_."

"Yes," the trickster said, and lunged forward, plunging the conjured dagger deep into the creature's chest. He wrenched the blade to the left and shoved further, until purple blood gushed from both front and back. The creature grasped at his arm in shock, and Loki leaned ever forward, his eyes glittering queerly in the dim light.

"To see the life leave your body. To abandon you as _carrion_ for the lesser animals to feast upon. Yes. _I returned._"

The Chitauri leader collapsed and twitched as though attempting to call out for help. Loki pulled the dagger from his body in a spray of purple gore and smiled. A gentle, terrible smile topped by those deadly glittering eyes. He looked to Lynn and saw droplets of the creature's blood across her cheeks, scattered from the act. Loki conjured a thick cloth and wiped the blade clean in one long sweep.

Lynn was watching him, eyes focused and wary. Loki tilted his head and assumed that the blood must be granting her temporary sight. Inspired, Loki twisted the stained cloth used to clean the dagger to dampen it further in gore, and soaked up purple blood from the spreading puddle at his feet to ensure every section of the cloth was saturated. He approached her as the creature gave one final heave and perished, or at least stopped moving.

Lynn stared in the direction of the corpse in mute shock. To think he was dead - to think _Loki _killed him -

"Will you come?" The trickster stared down at her while she stared at the monster, and she took a moment to refocus herself and look up at him. Her mouth had fallen open and she panted in fear. His hand was outstretched as though to offer assistance, help her to her feet and bear her away from this place. Would Loki kill her too, now that he had no reason to keep her alive?

"Will you?" This time his voice grated the demand and she shook herself. She looked at the body of her tormentor, then to Loki's outstretched hand. She reached to take the hand with one hand while gripping the cloak in other. There wasn't much choice in this place.

Loki's eyes were unfocused and cruel, and she recognized his look of strain. Her nostrils flared and she closed her mouth. Now was not the time to distract him with a panic.

She nearly lost the battle when Loki tied the stained cloth to her right arm. The blood was already cooling and would dry to a hard crust in time. She shuddered and tried to ignore the roiling nausea in her stomach. She adjusted the cape so that her upper arms were hidden from her sight, and refused to think about the sticky itch beginning against her skin.

They walked. She limped slowly and Loki let her; the Chitauri seemed distant for the moment, far removed from this cave. A moment after she thought this, one crept into view and hissed; Loki's dagger cleaved its head from its shoulders. A second appeared. A third. Each, in turn, lost their lives for standing in Loki's way.

She limped on and said nothing. Loki was filled with blood-lust, and if she turned that terrible attention on herself she too would lose her life.

They emerged into the open air. She hugged herself against the chill air of the mountain; Loki appeared not to notice. Now, in the open, she saw the mountain hive. She couldn't make out many features, since she was on the mountain as well; but the numerous caves she could see reminded her of a wasp nest, and she shuddered at the thought. A giant wasp's nest full of creatures that attacked her home. _Both_ homes.

Loki turned to regard the mountain with scorn. His hatred guided his eyes up, up to the top where the leviathans docked their troops. Even now there were dozens of them taking on cargo, and Chitauri, and weapons. The armada prepared its assault on Asgard, and this time they would bring enough to win. A second mountain stood in the distance, and the leviathans and Chitauri soldiers trekked in that direction. Lynn squinted to see better and realized it was no mountain, but a ship - their massive ship which the humans had only caught bare glimpses of through the first portal. Or...she thought it was a ship. A ship with four spiked corners, cruel and jagged against the sky. And then the corner furthest away moved. A great bellow echoed across the land and ricocheted from their position back to the beast.

A mountain, a ship, and a behemoth. The scope of the thing overwhelmed her; its body extended and contracted as it leaned against the chill air, the atmosphere so thin that the stars seemed close enough to tap its highest point. Her mind couldn't understand - it was too immense, _it couldn't exist_ -

Loki stood at the edge of the cave. His blood-lust still raged, and there were so many victims below. His hands flickered, a deft sleight of hand, and a rectangular object appeared between them. He gripped either side and pointed it outward. His hands looked darker, dark as her own skin, and she creased her brow to see it. The god straightened himself to his fullest height, tilted back his head, and sneered.

He reached into the Casket of Ancient Winters, deep down into its core, and tapped the power there which only the son of Laufey might command. It built; his pale skin sloughed away and his true form shone stark in the dimness. He reached, and tapped, and opened himself as a spigot for the Casket's strength. And then, seeing himself as the barrier, he stepped aside to let the power flow.

Frost erupted across the mountainside first, and raced in every direction from the mouth of their cave. The surge swept down through the other caves and deep into the heart of the mountain, and Lynn heard screams of agony below as the ice burned the Chitauri inside to death. It turned, then, with no further victims to claim, and rushed outward - flung itself down, an avalanche of death, and covered the foot of the mountain. More screams and cries, thousands of them. Still the ice rushed forward and spread, an arctic blanket. It overtook the troops heading toward the behemoth; it overtook the pathways and crevices and raced further, ever further, destroying all in its path.

Lynn was crying, had been crying since the first screams. She tried to grab Loki, to shake him from this oblivion, and burned her hand black. She fell to her knees and covered her face to shield herself from what he was doing. So much death, _so much_ -

They tried to fight back. She heard the roars of the leviathans as they turned to face their threat, heard the loud clatters and crashes as those same were caught in the torrent of frost and fell to the ground. They shattered when they hit, and despite her denial she heard that too. A great _crack_ as their mighty bodies splintered against the stone of their home.

_Stop,_ she thought, as hard as she could. _Loki, stop, stop this -_

He could not hear her. The frost continued to wash forward and expand, building upon itself, rushing forward and forward until -

The first shriek sounded unreal. It echoed in their cave, up and down the length of the ice-coated tomb before returning to its creator. A second shriek, and a third, and the behemoth in the distance tried to take a step, to launch itself away from this burning, this agony, and its shrieks filled her eyes until she took up Loki's dagger and swung the blunt end straight into his blue Jötunn head.

The frost sputtered as he fell, and the Casket collapsed to the side. Loki gripped the side of his head where the dagger connected and groaned. She hit him again, to put him on the ground, and he caught the dagger in his hand and shoved her back. She stumbled and fell with a cry. He was upon her in an instant, and his hands rested on either side of her head. She could feel the cold from his body as clearly as she could see the red of his eyes. He was snarling, mad with his rage, and if he touched her now he would kill her.

She turned her head away and closed her eyes, braced and ready. He pushed himself back and up, away from her, and she opened her eyes to look at him. The blue and red were fading, his pale skin showing through. She shook.

He looked away from her to his work. A great swath of ice blanketed the landscape, filled with crannies of Chitauri raising their hands in their death throes. Other corpses littered the belt; leviathans surged up and down the valley, frozen forever in a rictus of dying. And the behemoth, the beast that would carry them to their victory, was collapsed to its side and writhing in slow movements against the universe's light. One mighty leg was cracked straight down the middle and split in two, and even from this distance the white of its bone gleamed in the starry light. Lynn stood up and shivered in the cold mountain air, now colder for the induced winter engulfing the mountain. She looked upon the field of death with wide, uncomprehending eyes. How many were dead? Thousands upon thousands? How many -

Loki, pale-skinned once more, reached a hand to her as though to steady her. And she, craving any source of comfort in this tomb, took his hand.

Together, they watched the Chitauri world die.


	22. Little Gods

Steve was relieved to find that building materials in Asgard, unlike its inhabitants, was not noticeably heavier than comparable materials at home. The walls were not built thicker, although the floors were given more support from below in multi-story buildings. Homes were constructed with a sturdy foundation of stone or concrete, and the walls were first erected and then covered with a thick glaze which hardened within hours and provided the additional reinforcement needed to brace against Æsir bumps with shoulders, hands, feet or elbows.

The glaze used was thick and hard to spread evenly without considerable muscle. The process reminded Steve of spreading concrete, with thick dabs of the glaze being smoothed out by flat-surfaced spreaders.

He enjoyed the work immensely.

Sif and Thor stayed close by, both working on the same houses that Steve was led to by the builders when assignments were passed out. As the three warriors worked together, they enjoyed the easy companionship that came with a group of soldiers working toward a common goal. There was a camaraderie there which didn't exist with the other Avengers, and Steve missed the simple knowledge that if an attack occurred now, he knew not only that those around him would respond with him, but _how_ they would respond.

People like Tony, Clint and Natasha lacked the same training, and in Tony's case common sense, as a soldier. Clint and Natasha were assassins who'd been tamed by SHIELD - and assassins lived by a very specific morality which Steve couldn't share. Bruce was a good man as long as he maintained control over the rage within. When that anger was released, there was no amount of preparation which could predict what the Hulk would do.

Steve had now fought with both Thor and Sif separately, and seen they shared the training to channel that sort of anger into focused action. They were both endowed with reflexive reactions in the face of danger, and would react to their emotions after the fact.

As Steve smoothed the liquid resin across the lower wall of the house, he imagined his own thoughts leveled in the same manner. A tumultuous, bubbly mass smoothed out into a flattened surface.

His hand stuttered when he heard Tony calling his name. The stutter left a slight dip in the otherwise flowing surface he'd created. He ran the spreader over the groove to flatten the surface, finished what he could with the resin he'd applied to the wall, and tilted the spreader against the floor to prevent the glaze-covered surface from adhering to either the wall or the floor. He stood at the same moment Sif, Tony and Thor entered the room. Bruce was missing, and Steve became instantly concerned.

"He's fine," Tony said before Steve could ask. "Still with the golden goose. We've got the coordinates."

Thor and Steve exchanged a look while Sif stepped to the side to peer out the window at the morning light. "By the light, it has hardly been an hour," she said.

"Ayep," Tony said. "He was trying to find a nearby place and wham! He saw the rock we needed."

Thor looked perturbed. "His view of the Chitauri homeworld returned?" Tony raised his eyebrows and nodded.

"Briefly," Stark added, "but we got what we needed anyway."

"Loki is not one to lose his concentration when concealing his movements," Sif said to Thor. The thunderer nodded in agreement.

"It is true," he replied, "which leads me to wonder if this concealment is Loki at all."

"You think it could be Thanos?" Steve looked from Thor to Sif and back. "That means Loki might be fighting somehow, to cause a window like that."

"Yeah, windows of opportunity are great and all," Tony said, "but Ol' Heim still couldn't see Lynn. Just the big rock."

"Then it _is_ Thanos," Thor said with a sense of triumph. "Lynn Creed must be with Loki, to remain concealed when Thanos' enchantment failed."

"Thor," Sif began, and her expression was dark with concern. Tony raised a hand to interrupt them.

"We don't have a lot of time, kids. We're the rescue squad, remember?"

Steve looked at Sif. "Go let the builders know that they'll need another team to finish this house up. We'll meet at the Bifrost site in half an hour." Sif nodded after a final troubled glance at Thor, then turned to obey. Steve clapped Thor on the shoulder, once, and the thunder god looked at him with a stricken expression. Steve waved at Tony to let him know they were coming, and paused. He creased his brow, staring at the inventor for several long seconds before meeting Tony's eyes with raised eyebrows.

"Right," Tony said, "time to suit up then. Seeya in an hour."

"Tony -" but the inventor was already gone. Steve shook his head and led the way to the Avengers suites of the castle. Thor parted first to enter his quarters and gather whatever supplies he felt necessary. Steve continued onward and stopped in front of Lynn's room. Without her inside, there was little to indicate that a person had lived here for months now. The bed was tidied by the servants, and any apparel was squirrelled away from onlooker eyes.

Steve tapped the entryway with one index finger. "We'll get you back," he promised the air.

An hour later, the entire team plus four additional Æsir stood on the Bifrost facing Heimdall. They all stood within range of the boat save for the guardian, who would maintain his post from afar.

"You must return quickly," Heimdall said to them. "The longer you remain, the more danger you will be in from the elements."

"We handled their elements fine last time," Tony drawled. "I think we'll manage again."

"When you're at the pearly gates, what do you hope God says to you," Bruce asked the inventor. The two men shared a wry grin and Tony opened his mouth to respond in the same moment Natasha inserted the scepter's tip into the machine. A sudden flash of power, the tang of ozone in the air, and the entire party vanished in a cloud of blue light.

* * *

"JARVIS," Lynn whispered, "how long does it take blood to dry?" She stared at her feet to keep herself from stepping on anything that could cut her as she picked her way across the ice.

"Human blood takes approximately three to four minutes, depending on the volume."

Her sight was fading as the monster's blood dried. It wasn't human blood itching against her arm, but the information gave her a good estimate of how long she had left before she needed to stop. Lynn already had to pause multiple times on their rushed trek down the mountain, to adjust her makeshift foot coverings or the cloak she clenched around herself to keep out the cold. She leaned against a wall of ice now, grateful for the thick cloak, and tried to forget that this wall was no wall at all but a frozen Chitauri beast, and the odd protrusions poking from its sides were not the fingers of Chitauri in their dying throes, no, but merely strangely shaped icicles.

Her stomach ached. She could feel the muscle pulsing with pain as it clenched and roiled. Every breath made her shiver. She tugged at a pants leg and tried again to wrap the fabric in a manner that would not fall apart after several steps, squinting against the bright white reflecting into her eyes.

''We must go,' the trickster said from several feet ahead. Loki was impatient with their slow progress. He moved as a man possessed, as though the hounds of hell now pursued them. She wasn't sure what he was so afraid would find them. He'd killed everything.

Everything.

She ignored the oddly shaped icicles in the meantime and looked forward to the darkness. It would hide the frozen corpses dotting the landscape.

_Not corpses, _she reminded herself_. Icicles. _

"I need my glasses," she said to the rushed figure ahead of her. Loki turned and narrowed his eyes at her. In her dimming vision, she found that he looked strained and washed out. The thick armour gave him the artificial perception of bulk, but if the gaunt face were an indicator he was not as thick as the wardrobe made him appear.

He was taller than her by over a foot. This combined with his armour turned him into an imposing figure, and as he approached she fought the urge to shrink away from him. When he reached for her with his hands, she flinched.

A moment before the darkness engulfed her, she saw the dark look on his face. Then the black enveloped her and she felt his hand pushing the cloak aside to touch the wrapping on her arm.

"I presumed this would last," he said, and plucked at the knot. The fabric, rigid with dried blood, fought his efforts. "You will not move as quickly with the machine guiding you."

"It'd be easier with shoes," Lynn said. The fingers on her arm paused, then drew away. A pair of boots was placed in her hands. She blinked.

"They will not fit well," he said. "I will adjust their size once you have them on."

She sat on the ground and ran her hand across the bottom of the shoes, from the sole to the toes. Based on the curves she found, she associated them with either the left or right foot and slipped her feet inside. The boots mercifully lacked any form of buckles or laces that she could find. They were enormous on her feet, the tops sinking down to flop against her ankles. Loki touched to toe of either boot; when he drew away, they both fit her feet perfectly. She tucked the ends of her long pants into the top of the boots and wiggled her toes.

"Thanks," she said. "Where are we going?"

"I must be further away from Thanos' wards before we leave." The rustle of movement indicated his standing, and Lynn pushed herself to her feet to follow him. He must mean to take her home, directly or indirectly. She took a deep breath and asked.

"To Asgard or Earth?"

"Neither."

The buzzing in her ears was not JARVIS. She felt the goose pimples already covering her arms tingle, and a hiss of fear slid along her spine.

"You have to take me home," she said. Her reply was a chuckle, which did nothing to calm her. "I'm serious. I want to go home."

The glasses were settled over her eyes and adjusted on top of her nose. "In time."

"You're lying," she said. "You won't take me back."

"Come," he said. Lynn shook her head.

"No. I'll stay here. The Avengers will find me again; you can leave -"

He seized her arm roughly. "You will do as I say. Come." And he started walking at the same brisk pace as before. She maintained her footing as best she could with JARVIS' help, and his hand kept her upright when she stumbled.

"Stop, stop it!" He ignored her. "Loki, please!"

"Miss Creed," JARVIS said, "I have only one hour of power remaining." Lynn latched on to the message.

"JARVIS will lose power soon, I won't be able to, to see at all."

"Mr. Stark designed this device with the understanding that you would be home by now, where you could charge the power supply regularly," JARVIS added.

"I can charge him on Earth," she said. "If you take me."

"How long until the machine dies?" Lynn winced at the term.

"Ten minutes," she said. Loki stopped his pace and jerked her backwards to stop her momentum and spin her toward him.

"Do not lie to me," he rasped. "I will always know."

"One hour," she amended. Her arm ached under his hand.

"One hour," he repeated, and she shook her head at his tone. He sounded as though the idea had merit. He _wanted_ her blind. It made sense. She couldn't keep resisting if JARVIS were dead.

She pried at his finger. "Let go of me, it hurts!" He released her and stepped back. "Why won't you take me home?"

A finger swiped across her lips. She shuddered and jumped backwards, covering her mouth with both hands. "Don't do that!"

"This is blood," Loki said. "What was done to you?" Lynn turned her face away from him. "I cannot help you if you do not tell me what was done."

"Miss Creed," JARVIS said quietly, "once my power supply is depleted, you will be alone with him."

Even the A.I. understood the difference between alone and _alone_. Lynn sucked in a sharp breath and lifted the glasses from her nose, offering them to the trickster.

"Save your strength JARVIS," she said. "Power save, or whatever you can do."

"As you wish, Miss Creed." If there was a noise to indicate that JARVIS shut himself down, she didn't notice it. Another set of fingers took the lenses from her hand.

"Keep them safe," she said. Loki said nothing. "I don't like delaying things. You wanted me blind." She spread her hands and shivered as the movement opened the cloak and allowed cold air to seep into her warm cocoon. "Now what?"

"You will do exactly as I say." She could hear his footsteps and drew her hands back in. He gripped her arm again, this time gently, and tugged her in the direction he wanted. "We have little distance to travel before we leave this realm."

"Why won't you take me home?"

"What was done to you?"

They walked in silence for several minutes after that, at a mutual impasse.

* * *

The group beamed to the same spot as before, surrounded by caves and close to the peak. Those in thinner outfits shivered and rubbed their upper arms almost immediately. They all gazed around the new scenery with shock.

"Guys," Tony said, "was it a winter wonderland last time?"

"No," Steve said. His face was grim as he looked over the white landscape.

"Did Loki do this?" Clint stepped forward and broke the tip from a thick icicle which ended just above his head. Natasha watched as, despite his gloves, the archer dropped the ice after only a few seconds and shook his hand, flexing his fingers to re-establish circulation. She looked at the Æsir and addressed all of them.

"_Could _Loki do this?" All eyes turned toward Thor, who of all the assembled would know the answer best. The thunderer remained silent.

"Thor," Natasha said, "we need the truth now. Ok? We need to know exactly how powerful Loki is."

"He could have done this," Fandral said, "if he had the Casket."

"He kept it?" Sif was staring at Thor with wide eyes, and the thunderer barely nodded before finally replying.

"Yes, he has it still."

Tony raised a metal hand. "Sorry, what's the Casket?"

"The Casket of Ancient Winters is a relic from Jötunheimr," Thor replied. He waved Mjolnir in an arch to indicate the landscape. "You see its power before you."

"Guys," Bruce said from the cave entrance, "we can't get in here. It's totally blocked."

Steve, Sif and Natasha approached while the remaining men continued to survey the surroundings. Steve pressed a fist against the solid ice sheet spilling from the cave.

"Jesus," Tony said as he walked up behind them. "Was she in there?"

"If she was, there's nothing we can do for her now," Natasha said. Steve clenched his jaw and Sif touched his arm in silent support.

"These are not rocks," Hogun called from a bit further away. He was standing at the edge of a precipice, eying a writhing ice figure. "These are the Chitauri, frozen."

Thor looked out into the ice fields and felt the shimmer of hope again stir in his heart. "He has destroyed our enemies for us."

"But what of Lynn," Sif said. Tony tapped his chest.

"I'll handle that. I'll get us a direct location and everything. JARVIS? Go find yourself."

"I already have."

"Lynn," Tony called. The warriors surrounding him paused to watch. "Lynn, can you hear me? JARVIS, put this on speaker."

An awkward silence followed until her excited, whispering voice echoed from the suit. "Tony? Yes, I can hear you! Where are you?"

"Better question for you, kid. You're not in the giant ice cube are you?"

"He means the mountain," Steve added with a sharp look at the metal suit.

"Steve?" She sounded absurdly hopeful. The Æsir stepped forward to join Hogun at the precipice and look downwards, scanning the white for splotches of darkness. "Is everyone here?"

"And then some," Clint replied. "Where are you?"

"I'm not sure, it's further down -"

The sounds suddenly hissed and clattered, as though the microphone were being manhandled. Lynn's voice, from a distance, said "what are you doing?" Then the sounds from Tony's suit ceased. Sif looked back at Steve while Thor peered downward, squinting against the white.

"She must be with Loki," she said. Natasha and Clint exchanged a blank look; Fandral clenched one hand into a fist and pressed it against his heart in a silent pledge.

And a half-mile down the mountain, a woman's voice began screaming for them.

* * *

They had not walked very long, and their progress was slow as she learned to trust his guidance. At one point he offered to lift and carry her, to increase their pacing. She refused with stronger language than anticipated.

Loki understood the principle of a mixed blessing. The fact that Lynn could not escape in this state meant that as time passed, he would receive fewer inquiries over his rationale. This was most fortunate as he had no intention of untangling the myriad of lies which popped into his head each time she asked into one coherent phrase for her benefit. Silence was easier to maintain.

He watched her as they moved. Every so many steps she faltered and coughed, and often this cough was accompanied by another droplet of blood upon her lips. It was difficult to see against the dark surrounding skin; he only noticed because of his close observation. It vexed him that she would not tell him what was done to her, though he acknowledged that she honestly might not know the answer to his question, as she might not have seen or understood what occurred. In the end, he did not need to know at this moment. She was not dying, and they would be in a realm with much to offer by way of healing soon enough.

The slow, measured steps pricked at his temper. He struggled with patience when that patience was not required for one of his schemes. If they did not reach the limits of Thanos' reach soon, he would ignore her protests in favor of a faster clip and hoist her onto his shoulder.

"Do you and Thor have any other brothers?" Her voice was abrupt and loud in the overall quiet surrounding them.

"Grown bored with the peaceful silence?" he replied. Her scowl brought a smile to his lips.

"You are always so difficult. Can't I just be curious?"

"Why would you believe Thor has brothers?"

"There's a lot in the myths." She stumbled over a slight rise in the path; he steadied her with his hand.

"A myth, by definition, is untrue."

He had finally pricked her enough to rouse her temper. She huffed and snapped at him, "Oh, then I guess you're just a dream!"

"Fair enough," he acquiesced. "No, Thor has no additional brothers concealed away."

"I think I asked you that before." She sighed. "Sorry. Ok, well, are you an ice giant?"

They stopped as one. Lynn blinked in his direction, then spoke again. "It's in the myths like that. You were adopted from ice giants when they abandoned you. Is that where the blue skin comes from?"

"I am not certain how mortal storytellers might have learned such a detail." He started walking again, and she followed without a choice. "The truth was concealed for many years."

"I know you're not a monster mom," she said. Apparently Lynn felt the deeper question of how mortals learned of Loki's origins before the god himself irrelevant. "But do you have any kids at all?"

"No."

She shuddered, and though he was fairly certain the reaction was unrelated to the atmosphere, he funneled a small portion of magic through his cape to heat the fabric several degrees and provide her with some relief from the chill.

"Oh," she said with surprise, "that's nice."

"I am not always cruel," he said. She shrugged.

"No kids. So I guess Ragnarok doesn't ring anything."

They stopped again, and this time he couldn't prevent his fingers from clenching on her arm. "What do you know of it?"

"It's Armageddon," she said hesitantly. "The end of the world. All the Norse gods die."

Loki felt Frigga's embrace, squeezing him so gently, so lovingly. He felt his father's eye across the miles, staring at the monster they brought into their home. _Death_, the queen said as she gazed at the babe in her arms. _Death surrounds him_. "And what role do I play?"

"It's a myth -"

He shook her, once. She panted through her mouth.

"You cause it. I don't remember the whole story, it was pretty gory and that's not really -"

"Of course I do." Loki released her arm and looked off into the distance. The spread of death truly surrounded him here, as they passed by statues of corpses frozen in agony as the cold burned their lives away. He had entertained the notion that perhaps this was the death Frigga's vision showed her, the lowly Chitauri slaughtered by the bastard frost giant. Now he knew that could not be so. This Ragnarok, if the mortals were correct, was the end of the worlds. Not their own alone - should Loki kill the gods themselves, and bring about the end of the Realm Eternal, the remaining Nine would follow.

Thanos wanted the Infinity Gauntlet, and yet without it the Titan remained calm and reasonable in Loki's presence. Thanos' encouragement, his guidance, his eternal willingness to forgive Loki's failures where the Chitauri suffered for each small error. Loki cursed himself a fool thrice over. Thanos would never harm the trickster, for Loki embodied what Thanos craved most. Chaos, destruction - and the death of the worlds.

_Is there no one who sees no use for me?_ The trickster tried to call himself amused. His mouth tasted like ash.

A shudder of power rippled through the air around them, and a consciousness he knew almost as well as his own flashed into brilliant proximity. The trickster snarled and glared at the mountainside to attempt to narrow down a location - to ensure they were not headed right toward those the trickster wanted to avoid.

"Blisters upon my heel," he murmured. He was exasperated. How was it that mortals became so meddlesome in such a short span of time? His annoyance distracted him from the abruptly tense woman nearby. She turned away from him and cupped a hand over her mouth, breathing onto her fingers to warm them while he stared at the rock face, pondering this new development. They were close to the borders of Thanos' power, and then he could take them both away from this realm.

Loki turned back to Lynn to take her arm and begin their journey anew, heard the buzzing in her right ear, and a moment too late realized what must be happening.

"I'm not sure," she was whispering into her cupped hand as he approached. She had taken up handfuls of the cloak to further muffle her words. "It's further down -"

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away from her mouth. Her free hand shot to her right ear and fumbled.

"What are you doing?" She tried to twist her arm; this time he held fast, keeping her struggles still. He clapped one palm over her right ear, trapping her fumbling hand in place, and murmured a quiet oath. The buzzing vanished.

In that moment, with a sudden burst of action, Lynn twisted her arm in a circle, forcing him to release her wrist lest he break it, and ran.

"Tony," she screamed, "Steve! We're here!" She was running as fast as she dared, clipping her arms against the ice sheets surrounding them. The trickster stood in stunned bewilderment. She would not reach her destination - she was more likely to impale herself on the gigantic icicles gouging the landscape - and then Loki realized that it would not matter, if the metalsmith's suit were guiding them closer. They would be found, and Lynn "rescued," and Loki was in no mood to return to his final few days under the All-Father's tender mercies.

Loki summoned the Casket, tapped into the part of himself he otherwise denied, and took advantage of his heritage to fabricate an ice wall several paces before her. She slapped into the ice and fell backwards while the trickster expanded the shelf to wrap up and over the pair in a concealing dome of white. When he was satisfied with his construction, he approached her, the Casket sent back into the ether while he looked her over for serious injury. She scrambled back to her feet and pressed her palms against the surface, then drew them away when the cold began to burn.

"Am I ever going home?" She sent the question into the air, seeming to expect no reply.

"Is that what you wish," the trickster said, and she jolted in surprise.

"Yes," she said to the wall before her, "I want to go home."

Loki stepped forward and reached around her throat to grab the charm hanging from her neck. She yelled and twisted away from him; the charm and necklace shimmered from sight and were gone.

"The piece from your ear," he said, and his voice was gravelly with anger. "Give that to me or I will tear it from your ear myself."

Her hands were shaking when she reached to her right ear, tugged the microphone out and held it toward him. He took the small device and sent it away as well. Then he took her shoulders and spun her slowly to face him.

"They will never find you," he said, and he stepped closer so that she felt his bulk. Stepped forward until her cloaked back was against the burning cold ice. She turned her face away and squeezed her eyes shut. He leaned forward to speak into her ear, not bothering to whisper. They were alone here.

"You will do exactly as I say. You will follow without question, if you would like to complete your wretched mortal life. And you will not run again."

"I can't promise that," she said in a small voice. He would call her brave if he weren't so angered by her stubbornness.

"Then you will be left here to die alone." He stepped away from her to let her make an honest decision. "You are a battle I do not need to fight. If you become a waste of time, I will abandon you."

"No you won't." He narrowed his eyes at her; she couldn't see the gesture. "You went through too much trouble to just leave me now."

She was so certain she was right. The trickster chuckled.

"Your purpose is small," he said. "If I am to challenge Thanos, I must conquer his seiðr."

"His what?"

Loki's ire pulsed against his temples. "His _magic_."

Lynn pulled the cloak tight around herself. The warming spell he'd set upon it had long depleted its energies. They stood surrounded in a dome of ice, and the temperature inside was dropping rapidly. Loki saw a simple solution to her denial.

"I will warm you again to stave off the cold. If I do not, you will freeze within the hour." He wasn't certain that it would take a full hour. Already he could see small icicles forming on her dark eyelashes. "A slow, painful death without relief."

He saw how her body was trembling uncontrollably; her teeth chattered and her fingers twitched outside of her control. At this rate, she would be dead within minutes.

"But not without a price." He grasped her shoulder and ignored her flinch. "Or perhaps better said, a bargain. I will warm you now. If you attempt to leave again, I will not repeat the effort."

"You won't let me die," she whispered. He cast the spell again and her shivering began to ease.

"Yes, I will." He released her. "You are but a convenience. Do not become a burden."

"You can't fix my eyes," she said. He tensed. "You already tried. Odin tried. No one can fix them."

"I will succeed." It was a bold statement to make, to think he might conquer the Titan's magic when the All-Father himself failed. In the Asgardian court his hubris would not have gone without comment. This mortal, in comparison, only sighed and shook her head.

"Settle yourself, Amma Lynn," he said. "We will stay here as long as needed, and journey on once they have departed."

She wrapped a hand thickly in the cloak and began walking with her protected skin dragging against the ice. He allowed her to complete the circuit once before interrupting.

"It is fully enclosed. You can feel that, can you not? Come, and settle. I have provisions."

She followed the sound of his voice and stood awkwardly in place. He pushed down on her shoulders with gentle care. She understood the silent command and sat, crossing her legs in an odd formation that he didn't follow until she began rubbing at the toes of one of her boots. Loki sat across from her and pulled the next meal from the ether. He held the fruit toward her.

"Give me your hand," he commanded. She lifted one; he placed the fruit into her palm and gave it a gentle push, to encourage her to take it. She lifted the second hand and clutched the fruit, which was larger than her one palm, between both hands. While she took a bite, he pressed the tips of his fingers to the toes of her boots and infused both with enough heat to last for several hours. She froze in the act of biting, then pulled the fruit away from her mouth, chewed, swallowed, and sat in quiet contemplation. He thought she might be trying to understand his actions. He hoped the struggle was frustrating.

"Maybe they'd help you," the little mortal said when she finished the fruit and he took the core to discard it.

He did not bother to reply.


	23. Dissolve

_OOC note: Here we go! _

* * *

Loki watched as Lynn wrapped one corner of the warm cloak around and around her hand, wincing each time her efforts took her across the palm. When she seemed satisfied, she tucked the wrapped hand under her other arm and hunched low. She began to quietly hum a song he did not recognize.

"You were quiet, for a mortal," he said. "And now you break the silence with noise."

She stopped humming and dipped her head with a slight sigh. He chuckled.

"That was not a request for you to stop."

"You're confusing," she said. "Be clearer."

"I am not sure I am capable." Loki adjusted himself so that the hard leather of his armor would not poke into his hip as he sat. "If I speak plainly, you will become suspicious."

Lynn drew her knees up against her chest and cradled the bound hand inside the hollow. The trickster narrowed his eyes and reached toward her.

"Give me your hand," he said. She ignored him and his temper spiked. "Do not force me to repeat every command." She offered the unbound hand, which he dutifully inspected before dropping it and tapping her other arm.

"Now the other."

"Leave me alone."

Loki was not overly gifted with patience in regards to mortals. With a sharp snarl, he grabbed her ankles to pull her knees down, then pulled the bundled arm toward himself. She screamed in surprise and tried to twist away; he held the arm until she calmed herself.

"Do not become a burden, Amma Lynn," he warned as he began unwrapping her work. She spat at him and he laughed.

"Ornery little thing." He tugged the final slip of cloth free and prodded the blackened palm with his fingers. She hissed and tried to jerk free; he shook his head.

"This will rot if it is not tended. Were you going to conceal this from me until you lost use of the hand?"

He could hear her grinding her teeth in frustration. "Answer me."

"You can't fix it," she snapped. "And you won't take me where it _could_ be fixed. What's the point?"

"I am no healer, but I have learned a few tricks in my years." Loki gripped her wrist tightly, holding her palm up, and began stroking the tip of his fingers from her wrist to the edge of her blackened palm. He infused the frostbitten skin with gentle heat.

"That hurts," she said, and her voice was tight with pain. She sounded resigned and he smiled. Her resistance seemed to occur in short, manageable bursts rather than prolonged trials, which was easier to tolerate.

"Yes. It will hurt until the flesh is livened, which takes time."

"Hours?"

"Only if you resist." Already the black was starting to shift to a healthier purple. Her fingers twitched against his wrist and palm as he worked. "The song you were humming, what was it?"

He thought she might not answer his attempt to distract her. She chewed on her bottom lip, eyes open and blank. Loki looked down to watch his progress and the state of her injury.

"I was trying to cheer up," she said quietly. Loki raised both eyebrows without looking at her. "It helped a little."

"All will be well," the trickster said, knowing she would not believe him. The thought made him smile. "I notice you avoided naming the tune."

"It's a silly song." Lynn managed to look nervous as she shuffled her legs. He assumed she was embarrassed by the tune, and thought of how he might prompt her to admit the name.

"Do your mortal legends speak of Naglfar?" The edges of her palm were easing toward a yellowish pallor. She shrugged and drew her knees back up, settling her chin against them and waiting to hear what he had to say.

"It is rumored to be the mightiest and most horrific ship Asgard would ever see, though it is still under construction, and will remain forever so."

"Why?"

"It is constructed of the unkempt finger- and toenails of those mighty warriors who have died." He paused to let the revelation process, then continued. "And as mighty warriors continue to perish, the boat will never be completed."

They sat in companionable silence for several moments before she dared a question.

"It's a toenail boat?"

"Yes."

"As in, a boat made of toenails?"

"And fingernails, of course." He rubbed his palm flat against hers to massage more life into the skin. The natural dark color was beginning to return along the edges of the wound. "It is of the greatest importance to maintain and trim one's nails often, lest your nails be used to provide further stability to the horror that is Naglfar."

"Alright," Lynn said, and she seemed more cheerful than before. "I can't say my song is as silly as a toenail boat." She flexed the hand he was working on, raised her eyebrows, then sighed. "It's called 'I Can See Clearly Now.'"

He paused in his ministrations and looked at her. Her eyes were as blank as before.

"It's not literal," she said defensively when he didn't move. "It's just a happy song, and it cheers me up."

"Would you sing it for me?" She looked skeptical. "I will judge the song based on its own merits."

"And my singing."

"Is your voice so terrible?"

"It could be," Lynn warned, and despite herself he could hear the light teasing in her voice. "It could be horrible, and you'll regret asking at all."

"Then sing, and have your vengeance." He dropped her hand at her side and leaned away. "I have done what I could for your palm. Do try not to slice it open upon an icicle."

"If there weren't any icicles that'd be easier," she said. Loki inspected the expression on her face and decided that calling the odd turn of her lips a "condescending smirk" would not be a stretch of the term.

"True," he agreed, "although it is easier to dodge an immobile icicle compared to a Chitauri's weapon."

"Not for me," Lynn said as she flexed her hand. She poked a finger into the center of her palm. "I could hear the weapons. The icicles just jump up and bite me."

Loki laughed outright at that, which prompted an open smile from her. He placed his hands flat behind him to lean backward and watched as a minute amount of tension left her. Then he continued to watch, and saw the moment when she remembered her circumstances. She tilted her head in a wide circle as though looking over their surroundings. Her shoulders sagged lower; she drew her knees back to her chest and wrapped herself in the cloak, a small cocoon of his color.

His eyelids drooped at the sight. She coughed, and wiped the spot of her blood onto the material draped across her arm. Loki's mind drifted to his father's stories of sword lore, when a warrior laid claim to the blade by cutting himself on the tempered edge and staining the steel with his blood. If such blood rites were universal, perhaps he should gift the little mortal his cape as a sign of good faith to the Norns. They had seen fit to gift him with the fate of death; in their name, he would mockingly gift a simple bit of fabric to a mere mortal, and laugh to himself as he imagined their squirming.

His bitter thoughts drifted away when Lynn, swaddled and warm and in need of higher spirits, began to sing.

* * *

Clint's conscience wasn't doing him any favors. If he hadn't pushed for a connection, would Loki have left sooner, and perhaps left Lynn behind? If Clint hadn't threatened Asgard with annihilation, would the trickster be avoiding them now? The archer's solace lay in the shared sense of responsibility among the group. As he stared down into the white ice, trying to spot Lynn or Loki among the brightness, Steve stepped up next to him.

"We should have taken her home," the soldier said. He was making no pretense at quiet pondering; he stared at the side of Clint's head until the archer looked up at him. "We should've taken her back months ago."

"We don't know he's hurting her," Clint said. Steve narrowed his eyes. "But we _do_ know SHIELD wouldn't care to."

"I'm with Clint," Bruce added as he stepped up to join them, wringing his hands in tense anxiety. "We made the right choice with the information we had."

"Do not waste time moaning over your actions which led us to this place," Sif called from behind them. Steve and Bruce turned; the lady warrior stood with Fandral and Volstagg, who were nodding. "Loki is a schemer, and capitalizes on confusion and distress."

"We are experts on his methods," Volstagg said. "There is not a one of us who has not fallen for his tricks."

"What can you tell us?" Natasha stood rubbing her arms and blowing into her hands; Fandral approached and removed his heavy cloak to drape over her shoulders while the assassin glared at him. She didn't tell him to take it back.

"We had very little information the first time, except for some old myths. We could use personal experience."

"Loki has a great love of grandiose gestures," Fandral said. "He will choose the more dramatic opportunity every chance he's given, and perhaps not consciously." Sif stepped up behind him with a tight-lipped expression.

"He likes to be seen," she said, "for he enjoys the recognition for his treachery."

"Lynn!" Tony's voice was magnified to echo down the mountain behind them as he flew through the air, searching for the mortal and the god. "Lynn, where are you?"

"Tony figured out his plan in New York," Natasha said to Steve. "Maybe he can explain what's going on now, too."

"Maybe it's his way of changing sides." All of them turned to Bruce, who shuffled his feet. "Why else would he kill all the Chitauri? If he likes big obvious moves, well, this is pretty big and obvious."

"But then he avoids us rather than collect his praises," Sif said. "That is unlike him."

"Perhaps there is shame in it," Fandral suggested. "He has not used a trick we've seen before, here. He must suspect that we know his origins now."

"Here comes Thor," Clint announced from the ledge. A moment later the thunderer soared past him to land in their midst.

"What about Tony," Steve asked, in the same moment Sif demanded of Thor, "well?"

"I could not find either of them," Thor replied. "I suspect they are concealed away from our sight, if they are still on this realm." To Steve, he said, "Friend Stark will not find them, though he persists in his search."

"What do you mean about this realm? Why wouldn't they still be here?" Bruce looked from Thor to the other Æsir, who all shared a look together. "What's going on?"

Thor steadied himself with a deep breath. "Loki can travel between the worlds without the aid of the Bifrost - or the Tesseract."

"Thor," Steve said, and his self-restraint was evident in the veins bulging in his neck, "are there any other powers Loki has that we should know about?"

"He can change his form at will," the thunderer said. There was silence after the announcement, until Natasha nodded and tossed Fandral's cloak from her shoulders.

"If he can leave any time he wants, we need to find them _now_. Steve?"

"Two parties," the captain announced. "Four and four. Sif, Bruce, Clint, with me. Fandral, Hogun, Volstagg and Natasha - you go down that way and sweep everything. Thor, stay with the boat and let us know if anyone comes for the Tesseract." He looked among both groups to check for questions. No one spoke up, and the only sound was Tony's continued bellows along the mountainside.

"Let's find them, fast."

* * *

Lynn found her own voice barely passable, but Loki did not ask her to stop singing once she'd started. She finished the song with little flourish, and upon the last words felt her sagging spirits lift ever so slightly. It was a nice feeling, to think that things could always be worse, or perhaps the worst was behind her now. Her hand was better, no longer burning with pain every time she moved her fingers. She was warm from her shoulders to her toes, and a recent meal sat in her stomach, soaking up the sour, stinging whatever-it-was the monster made her drink.

In comparison to the monster or Thanos, she had to admit she could have worse company. Maybe not by leaps and bounds, but she would take whatever small mercies she could get.

"How long will we stay here?" She tried not to sound hopeful; the longer they stayed, the greater chance that one of the two geniuses on the Avengers team might figure out where she was hidden, or even better, one of the men would brute force their way through the ice to discover this enclave. Every moment which passed was a moment closer to her inevitable rescue.

"We go now," Loki announced, and she heard the rustling of his clothing as he stood. She stayed down and pretended she hadn't heard him. He grabbed one arm and hauled upwards; with a yelp, she was on her feet and swaying.

"Do not fight or scream," he ordered. "I will freeze your tongue and teeth to solid ice if you do." Lynn ran her tongue over her teeth and shuddered at the thought of that much cold. The brain freeze would never end.

"What about talking?" She didn't mean to sound rebellious; she honestly wanted to know if she was allowed to carry a conversation. He either understood her meaning or found the idea of rebellion funny; he chuckled before replying.

"Not until I indicate we are far from detection."

"How will you do that?"

"I will speak." And a quiet hissing began, several feet ahead. It took until she smelled steam, rather than ice, in the air to realize what was happening. He was melting away the enclave he'd shut her into, so that they could leave. As soon as it was passable, he would pull her outside and they would start walking, further and further away from her relative freedom.

She would run. She _had_ to run. Not running admitted consent with his plans, and she did not intend to spend the rest of her life, however short, sliding around his emotional upheavals.

The hissing was still ongoing. She bit her lip, then straightened her spine.

"Why are you running from the Avengers?"

He didn't reply, didn't even react. She'd have to try harder.

"You handled them fine before - twice. Why run now?"

"Be quiet," he grated at her. Time for a new volley.

"What set you off?" Now the hissing stopped, and she felt him turn to look at her. "You killed _everything_. Was that always your plan?"

"What is this sudden interest in my motives, Amma Lynn? Was it not you who explained a trickster's lack of rationale?"

"If I'm stuck with you, I'd like to understand you a little better." She tapped one of her temples. "I can't read body language, so I'd like to know cues to look for."

"Cues for what?"

"Murderous rages." She tried to keep her face straight, but the shiver in her voice moved through her body down to her toes. "I'd like to outlive your temper."

"My temper is no concern of yours." The hissing began anew, and Lynn was struck with the sudden certainty that she was running out of time.

"It is! You _commanded_ the Chitauri, and then you killed them! And wasn't Thanos your ally?" The hissing had stopped again; Loki was either listening or about to explode in the very same murderous rage she wanted to avoid. She swallowed her fear and kept on.

"The monster told me what the Chitauri were up to, and Thanos' plan. To attack Asgard. Your home."

"It is not my home," he rasped. She waved a dismissive hand.

"It's where you were raised. You've got to be a _little_ attached." Nothing. She reached out and swayed her hand until she felt him; his arm, covered in cloth and possibly armor. Even through all that, she felt the tension. "That was it, wasn't it? You learned about his plan to attack your home."

"It was _never_ my home." He clenched her wrist and twisted her arm to the side, squeezing and pushing forward so that she had to step back. She stumbled over the long edge of the cloak and fell backward; he released her and she hit the icy ground hard.

"I know I'm right," Lynn insisted from the ground. "That's your weak spot. Not a person, a place. There's nothing wrong with -"

The words choked off as a powerful, cold hand wrapped around her throat and squeezed. She was so much smaller than him that his fingers nearly wrapped the entire span. She sputtered and clawed at his skin; he hardly moved.

"I advised you," he said in a calm, bored tone, "not to become a burden. What have you proven, Amma Lynn? That you are clever enough to learn how to incite my rage? How fortunate a discovery." The fingers twitched and she gagged. "I warned Thanos that I would not be used against Asgard. Perhaps he forgot my ultimatum. Now he will die for that oversight." She was engaged in a full-body struggle now, her heels thudding against the ground as her hands clawed and tore desperately at his arm. He never wavered.

"I could, you know," he said as her struggles weakened. "Kill you, and leave you here for your friends to find. A broken corpse, rescued too late. I'm sure the archer would be most bereaved. He's fond of you. Tried to befriend me in order to spare you - to spare _all _of you my wrath. A stupid mortal attempt to tame a god."

He released her throat and she rolled onto her side, coughing violently against the ice. Dollops of blood splattered the white ground underneath her; she covered her head and wept.

"I will not be tamed," Loki said to her from high above. Back on his feet, towering over her. "And you will never go home."

She realized her mistake as he stormed away to finish melting the dome: she'd forgotten that Loki was a villain, too. She knew his weakness, the way to control him - something he wouldn't want revealed for life or money - or pain of death. And now that the would-be king knew she was aware, he would never let her go.

* * *

"They were here, ah Godda-" Tony busied himself with a series of vicious curses and angry metallic punches into solid ice while Steve inspected the inside of the melted dome. Tony had followed JARVIS' indication of a heat signature from this direction, only to find this igloo-shaped hovel with a hole melted straight through. The dome was easily three feet thick on all sides, and there was more than enough evidence of the passage of two people to confirm that Loki and Lynn had been in this very spot.

A dark patch of black and cracked ice told them of a struggle. Steve crouched and pressed a finger to the patch; the blood was frozen solid. Sif crouched next to him and repeated his action, anger radiating from her presence.

"She is fighting, if he has hurt her." She looked at Steve, who met her flashing eyes with his own stormy set. "She is braver than I thought."

"Brave won't keep her alive," Clint said from behind. "They went this way. We can't wait for the rest of the group, we need to find them now."

"Can you track them?" Steve stepped up next to Clint, who paused before nodding. Tony, anger spent, stepped into the conversation as Clint replied.

"Just barely, but not well. We could use a bloodhound."

Tony looked toward Bruce, white eyes blazing. "Whaddaya think, Doc? Can you sniff them out?"

"Yeah, yeah," Bruce stuttered, "shouldn't be a problem. Stand back everyone."

Sif was the only party member who had not witnessed Bruce's transformation before, and her eyes widened in awe as the diminutive man morphed into a towering green beast. She looked to Steve, who kept his focus on Bruce's face throughout the transformation. When the angry creature scowled at him, Steve pointed in the direction Clint said Loki and Lynn went.

"Find Loki," he commanded. The corner of the beast's lip rose in a sneer, and Steve nodded. "Yes, _that_ Loki. Go. Find."

The Hulk turned, sniffed deeply, and pounded through the ice. Tony lifted from the ground to follow while Steve, Sif and Clint raced behind.

* * *

Lynn couldn't stop rubbing her bruised neck, and the constant motion pricked at Loki's temper. Even worse, she cleared her throat often and swallowed thick globs of saliva, a loud and disgusting noise which set the trickster's hackles on edge. If he could have let her trail several paces behind, he would not have been bothered - but her blindness necessitated his guidance. He could not let her go, for she would wander without direction or sit and wait for her friends to find her.

He scowled and dragged her forward, topping a ridge they had climbed for several minutes.

She shouldn't have provoked him, he reasoned. It wasn't the first time that her stubbornness earned her a set of bruises in the shape of his handprints. At least her upper arms were covered in the green cloak; her throat was bare and exposed, and though the dark skin was harder to read for him, he could see the patches starting to form, and the swelling was unmistakable.

"Would you desist?" He pulled her hand from her throat and ignored the way she flinched away from his forceful touch - her own fault, he knew. She _shouldn't_ have provoked him before.

"I'm sorry," she whispered so quietly that he barely heard the words. Her entire demeanor was changed now, to a silent mouse avoiding the cat's eye lest he play with her a bit more. Her fault, he repeated to himself. Entirely her fault. The conversation itself had focused on the dangers of his temper. How could someone so clever have missed the very warnings she spoke of?

He saw Frigga's face, sad and disappointed when the little mortal was discovered dead, covered in bruises from her captor. What should she expect, he snarled at the mental image. The arbiter of death couldn't be expected to treat such a fragile thing with delicacy. It was a miracle the mortal had survived him this long.

Sad, and so disappointed. Loki swallowed nearly as hard as Lynn was and spoke to her in a quiet voice.

"Amma Lynn," he said, "I did not mean to hurt you. You angered me, and I retaliated."

"Tell me you won't do it again, too," she said. Her voice cracked and wavered, and he knew that this was neither fear nor nerves. Her throat was unable to form the words easily now. "It'll complete the image."

"What image is that, Amma Lynn?"

She said nothing for several steps. He finally stopped and turned to regard her. She blinked slowly, her eyes fastened on his chest plate, far below his face. He knew she could not see to meet his eyes, and wondered if she would were she able to.

"We're not friends," she said. He let her arm go and raised his eyebrows. He could not step away; she spoke so softly he would struggle to hear her from even a few paces away.

"We're not friends," she repeated, "and I won't ever be your ally. That's what you've got, Loki. A whole bunch of enemies, and a little mortal girl who will try to get away from you any chance I get."

"You still believe you have a choice?" Fascinating, and perhaps frustrating too. How much effort did she expect him to be willing to exert on her behalf?

"There's always a choice. You've made mine clear. I can let you keep hurting me, or I can make you mad enough to kill me." She coughed, and rubbed her neck with a wince. "Guess which I choose."

"You would rather die?" His voice was like silk. "Slip into that eternal nothing, and fall forever into the void? That is what you wish for yourself? How quickly you give up, Amma Lynn."

Lynn tilted her head back. "Tony! Clint! We're here! We're -" He slapped his hand over her mouth and growled at her. She did not pull away. She could barely scream for her injury, but Æsir ears could pick up what mortal ears could not.

"Curse your species," he hissed, "why can you not just obey?"

He shoved his hand forward and her back. She staggered but managed to stay upright this time.

"Because screw you," she said, and he realized she was yelling. Her voice was airy and damaged, straining against her throat, yet still she yelled at him. "Why don't you just _leave_. You want to be alone, then _stay alone_ and just _go away_."

"Stop yelling," he commanded, "you are hurting yourself."

Lynn began laughing then, and would not stop even after her legs gave out and she collapsed to her knees. She hugged herself and laughed until tears ran along her cheeks, then continued laughing with wild abandon. She was lost to hysterics, and Loki was unsure of how to stop her antics.

"Silence," he hissed, "you will draw -"

"The Avengers?" She pushed herself back to her feet and approached him with raised hands, following the sound of his voice. "That would be great. Leave!" She pressed her hands against his chest and shoved forward. "Leave! Just go!" He didn't budge and she grew agitated in her efforts. "Why won't you just go?!"

"I cannot," he snapped at her. She froze. "The wards prevent travel in or out of this realm, and stretch further than I believed. We will go to the Chitauri vessel, and -"

"Not all travel," she said, and she sounded desperate. "Tony and the others were able to come in -"

"Out of the question," Loki snarled, and took her arm to pull her forward again. She struggled.

"No, wait, but they can _help_ -"

"_Out of the question_," and he shook her hard enough to make her head snap backward and forward. She whimpered and clutched her bruised throat. A moment later, a roaring behemoth reared over the ridge, its green fists waving as it lunged forward.

"Let her go, Voldemort." The metalsmith, clad in his suit, slammed into the ground as the beast reared back. He raised both hands in a threat while additional shouts rang over the ridge. The soldier, Barton, and Sif if he heard correctly.

"Tony," Lynn began, and Loki drew her back to his chest and clasped a hand over her mouth to silence her. She whined and fell still against him.

"Loki," the soldier commanded the moment he saw the situation, "let Lynn go." Behind him, Barton knocked an arrow and aimed straight for the trickster's face. He mouthed words for Loki alone, and the trickster couldn't stop the grin which spread across his face at the silent reminder of a previous conversation. He tilted his head down and spoke into Lynn's ear.

"It seems I was wrong, Amma Lynn. They have found you. Would you care to listen to them die?" Lynn jolted in his arms.

"Stop talking to her," shouted Barton. "Let her go and we'll let you go."

"And hear how they attempt to deceive me," he whispered into her thick hair. "I, the very god of lies." He gripped her chin and faced her forward, where Sif's piercing hate seared across the distance. "Tell them to leave, or I will kill them. Every one of them." He released her mouth.

"Dr. Banner," she screamed, "help me!"

The beast slammed both fists into the ground and lunged in the same moment Loki threw Lynn to the side. She hit the ground with a sharp cry and rolled several feet, coming to rest at the base of a great pillar. She groaned, gripped the pillar in one hand and began to pull herself to her shaky feet. Voices shouted and roared; she turned in their direction and saw -

- Dr. Banner, as the Hulk, held immobile by his feet in a large patch of ice. As he struggled, the ice cracked and began to break -

- Clint drawing a fourth arrow to fire at the shadow of Loki, which shimmered out of sight the moment the arrow slipped through -

- Iron Man blasting both pulses into a growing fog of smoke, which continued to grow and engulf the scene, causing more chaos and confusion -

- Steve and Sif both running toward her and freezing in place, Sif grabbing at Steve's arm to halt his progress, as they stared behind her, looking scared and determined all at the same time -

Lynn made no noise at all as she felt her hair grabbed in a massive fist and pulled up, up, up. She rose with it until she could rise no more, and reached behind her to grab the wrist which held her so tightly. She met Steve and Sif's eyes, each in turn, and tried to tell them to run away as far as they could...

_And here they are - the very ones I desired you to deliver. _The voice rang in the air; she saw Steve and Sif shudder, and the fight behind them began to wane. The smoke slowly seeped away to reveal all three engaged - Loki, furthest away from the center where he had drawn Clint and Tony with his shadows, and Clint and Tony exchanging a scowl before turning to see what was going on.

_They fight as though valiant. And yet, they fall so easily, as mortals will do._

"The Æsir are no mortals," Sif cried, her voice tight with fear. Thanos laughed low in his throat, a rumbling growl of insane humor. Lynn's eyes stung with tears.

_It was perhaps a boon, then, that one's hand was so mangled as to be useless. The bravery of the Æsir is also their downfall. _

"No!" Sif's scream of denial morphed into a battle cry of rage as she flung herself forward, spear flashing through the air. The Titan merely reared back his fist and slammed both Sif and her spear to the side, throwing her a great distance to crash against the glacial walls around them. Steve followed her with a cry of "Sif!" He dropped to one knee at her side and checked her over while Thanos turned to Clint and Loki, who still stood facing him. Tony had taken to the air and landed behind the Titan, where he pressed his hands directly against the creature's back and blasted with maximum power. Lynn felt Thanos shudder with the impact - and then heave his arm backward and bash his braced fist directly into the center of Tony's chest. The metal suit went flying backward while Lynn screamed.

"The woman with the Æsir," Clint said, his arrow trembling. "Did you kill her?"

_Yes,_ Thanos replied, and the archer's eyes darkened in pain. _Eventually._

The ice containing the Hulk shattered and Thanos tossed Lynn aside, where she crashed to the ground again without sight. She could no longer see the fight and tried to crawl away, to distance herself from this place and its horrors. She stopped when she felt something cold and smooth - metal.

"Tony?" She ran her hands over the suit until she felt the head. "Tony!" She tried to shake him, but the metal suit was too heavy. She began checking him over as best she could, and her hand, following the suit, dipped into his chest.

Dipped very, very deep into his chest.

"Tony," she screamed, and she tried to shake him again. Tears flooded down her face. "Tony, wake up!"

There were explosions and shouts and that _voice_ - and then a hand grabbing at her, and pulling her to her feet, and she screamed and tried to pull away -

"Amma Lynn, _do not fight me_. We must _go_."

"Loki," she begged, "Tony, you have to -"

He shoved her to the ground and stepped away. Thanos approached with blood on his hands, and the trickster placed himself between Thanos and Lynn without thought; he would not let the Titan touch her again.

_Your offering greatly pleased my mistress, and she whispered a gift into my ear - a gift you have brought me, heir of death._

Loki narrowed his eyes and stood his ground while Thanos approached.

_How fortunate I was, that you fell into my realm. _Thanos took Loki by the back of his throat and held him, insanity bubbling from his form in roiling waves. _How lucky. The bringer of Ragnarok, the end of all things. There was only to guide you toward your fate._

"No," Loki choked around the hand, belligerent and furious. "I am not your pawn."

_You always were. _

Thanos reached and wrenched Loki's magic asunder. The trickster cried out and grasped at the air before him, where images shifted and fluttered until a hard, metal object began to manifest. The god of mischief yelled and ripped backward, trying to once more conceal the artifact from the light of day. Thanos laughed and pulled, and the Infinity Gauntlet burst into the open. Still laughing, he shoved the trickster away, plucked the glistening metal from the air and sheathed his hand in one movement. The jewels flashed and he clenched his fist as lights shot in all directions, engulfing both Loki and Lynn.

Loki's face was pale, paler than ever before, and he was moving to try and wrest the gauntlet away - and Thanos spread his fingers, and the god of lies vanished into the ether. The Mad Titan spread his hand forward now and a wild roaring began to fill the air. Lynn clamped her hands over her ears and collapsed to her knees, blocking out what she could. But there was too much noise, and too much power, and so much to _see_ that even blind, even with her eyelids firmly shut, she could see what he was doing, could see the stars collapsing and the macrocosm dissolving into a shining black void.

"Behold, beloved" the Mad Titan proclaimed, "as I unmake the universe."


	24. Ragnarok

_For a while I heard you missing steps in the street. In your anger, pleading, in an uncertain key. Singing the sound that you found for me._

* * *

Loki awoke to biting cold in the air around him, though the cold did not bite as keenly as it seemed it should. He suppressed a groan and pushed himself to sitting, his hands prodded by the jagged rock surrounding him. He inspected the crater his body made when it landed in this barren waste of a black landscape. However he'd come here, he hadn't been sent lightly.

In another moment he recognized his surroundings. The craggy shapes of Jötunheimr and the bitter chill in the air gave this realm away. Why would the Titan send him here? Surely there were other worlds he wished conquered that he might send the trickster for reconnaissance. Loki could scarce see the value in the Frost Giant world.

His mind trailed behind his awareness. He remembered now that he and the Titan had parted on decidedly bad terms, with Thanos stealing the Gauntlet moments before blackness swarmed Loki's vision. He remembered Thanos gloating over his slaughter, tossing Lynn aside -

The trickster twisted in place to look over the nearby rocks and ice. Lynn was not here, nor were the remaining Avengers and their Æsir companions. Loki was alone on this black rock of a realm, undisturbed for who knew how long. He pushed himself to standing and patted his vestments. He paused to stare at the deep blue hue of his skin. He reached within to coat himself in his Æsir form. The blue remained. He tried weaving other spells and found them willingly bent to his desires, yet his Jotün form remained stubborn. The magic fueling that particular bit of craft was missing, gone for the first time in as long as the trickster could recall. If the magic were gone, did it mean the source also?...

The trickster shook his arms out to straighten his sleeves and took his leave of the crater. If he were forced to wear this form, he refused to allow his garments to betray his inner turmoil at the thought.

He walked for some time. In the beginning he tread cautiously to avoid detection, suspecting that the Jötun merely hid from sight until forced to reveal themselves. Minutes changed to a half-hour, then a full hour and beyond. Late into the second hour he had given up on any semblance of caution, instead purposefully disturbing his path to entice any Jötun nearby to come into the light.

None emerged.

They could not _all_ be dead - he reasoned despite the evidence: what purpose would such a slaughter serve? His reasoning would not abandon all logic, but instead began to investigate and gather the evidence he could see and the information he knew to be true of the Mad Titan. And when he recalled the Titan's obsession with Death herself, he found himself unable to ignore the silence around him.

He settled on a rock outcropping and swiped his hand through the air. His magic flowed outward and spread in a circle around him, weaving through the landscape in a search for some living thing within fifty yards. Nothing responded, and his heart stuttered in shock. Had Thor ever vowed such desolation, even in his wildest rages of circumstance? Had Loki himself truly understood what the destruction of Jötunheimr meant in the grand scheme? To think of the loss of the despicable Jötun was no trial to the Æsir - _nor myself_, the trickster reminded himself - and yet this was a death several steps beyond. He had simply never considered that in destroying Jötunheimr, the native flora and fauna would suffer the same sentence as their evolved cousins.

And here he sat among the lifeless rocks, the goal he had not long ago attempted now successful in the Mad Titan's ravagings, and he felt a heavy burden fall upon him. The last of the Jötun in truth - not just the mighty Jötun but the ecosystem they shared kinship with, all lost and gone to time. Loki knew nothing of them, and no others remained who might keen their death knell.

Jötunheimr fell to Thanos. This realm, then, was forfeit. How many of the Nine remained?

Loki felt a strange hollowness as he reached and opened his mind to that which he feared, and sent his question into the void. Thanos might have missed his call before, but now the Titan wielded the Gauntlet and could miss nothing in the universe.

_How many of the realms still stand?_

The answer came in turn.

_One._

The Mad Titan had been listening, of course, and delighting in the trickster's apprehension. He answered now with what counted for glee in that sinuous, granite voice.

_I have spared your world as a token, godling._

"My world..." Loki peered at the scarred landscape. A gaping crater, rimmed with scorch marks, opened less than fifty paces away and spanned into the distance. The scorches were burned straight into the cold stone and the devastation around them spread in every direction. These were marks caused by pure, unbridled energy. The Bifrost site. Even knowing that no one knew of his presence here on Jötunheimr, the trickster sought out and awaited the rainbow bridge.

Loki shuddered and asked the void, _why?_

_Your offering overshadowed my efforts. I was inspired to greater heights to win back the hand of my love, as she turned her eyes to your doings instead. I have made another, greater sacrifice. _The non-voice took an air of near-purring delight. _My beloved is pleased._

Loki knew who that beloved was, and the only sacrifice which might satisfy her hunger. In a push of desperation he reached for Yggdrasil to trace the minds of his false family. Thor's consciousness had spread easily before him in years past, always so quick to respond, and he could trace the thunder god across the realms by the glow of that mind.

It was gone.

Loki reached further to grasp at his mother's mind. It, too, was gone. With a deep swallow and deeper regret, he reached for the first tether to this family he ever knew. As he reached to the All-Father, a distant memory sprang to him - warm arms, a kind smile in a ravaged face. He had seen this only once, when he was too young to remember, and pulling at the All-Father now summoned that first memory of the lie he'd grown to hate.

Brittle silence.

Denial sat like a stone in the trickster's belly. Loki reached again, this time for the tether he'd exploited over these past weeks. He tugged and felt resistance, and with that resistance came some sense of relief.

_The woman still lives?_ An unnecessary question when he could feel the truth, but he wanted to hear the Titan's response. It proved discomforting. Now there was pleasure again - the pleasure of victory over a foe.

_A trophy, and a final offering when the time comes. Enjoy your victory , godling. _

He felt the connection break and fought the urge to dredge it back and continue the questioning. Thanos told him everything that mattered. What more could he request?

Loki found himself with no plan, and therefore no patience. He stepped forward and plunged both hands into the ether, drawing himself behind and into the space between. Yggdrasil shone in the darkness as the sole source of light in this place, and opened avenues and pathways outside of the observable universe, fueled by both physical and mental connections to all that the living tree imbued with its essence.

In this realm outside the realms, Loki felt closest to his godhood. He felt emboldened now, knowing that he was hidden from the eyes of the Mad Titan and outside the scope of the Infinity Gauntlet itself - for he had never shown Thanos these pathways, nor how to access them, and the Titan could not manipulate that which he could not access.

He had done great damage regardless. In the past Yggdrasil could blind one when gazed upon directly - now the tree glowed dully in the black, lighting its pathways with weakened energy. The branches had only Jötunheimr to nourish them, and that realm's barrenness salted the roots.

Loki reached for the closest tendrils with his seiðr and began weaving the strands together into a stronger root. The strands resisted at first, each accustomed to a singular source of strength - until he finished his work, and the newly created root thrived where the three tendrils had struggled. Loki reached again to add another taproot, and another, until the entwined components began to merge into a single branch. He tugged gently at the limb and felt no give; with the reinforcements he could now travel again, though he had far fewer options than before. He could see Jötunheimr clearly; otherwise his options were the unknown. He needed a guide to pull himself into the necessary direction.

He reached for the tether still bound to the woman, and stepped onto the limbs of Yggdrasil to find the Mad Titan.

* * *

Loki veiled himself before stepping from the in-between, and found himself in a deep cavern he did not recognize. The walls appeared to be brightly colored sandstone carved and polished to smooth surfaces with a matching floor. The atmosphere was thick and dense with heavier gases and unpleasant aromas. The trickster wrinkled his nose in silent condemnation and attempted to find his guide. He paused when he spotted her not two paces away, and revealed himself to her alone.

She was seated on the floor with her hands resting at her sides. She didn't move when his footsteps rapped across the floor, and when he stood before her she continued to stare straight ahead. Her eyes were dull and blank. He crouched at her side and peered into her face. Her eyes did not follow his movements; her breathing was shallow, as though spawned only by the guidance of the body. There was no mind left to provide further instruction.

"Amma Lynn," he said, and waited. Nothing. "Amma _Lynn._" Still nothing. He took her upper arm and shook her. Her head lolled forward and back. "Amma Lynn Creed. Answer."

She blinked slowly. Her eyelids slid down, down, then back up. He put himself in front of her gaze so that she would see him. "It is Loki. _Loki_. Answer me."

Loki stood and pulled his hand away, leaving a black imprint of frostbitten skin on Lynn's arm. He waited for her reaction - it must hurt terribly, and to think she was so far gone that a portion of her arm burning with cold would lead to nothing...

"Amma Lynn," he commanded, "you cannot hide yourself away as before. If you wish to leave this place, you must wake."

She sat and stared. A trophy. Trophies were statues, blank slates to proclaim victory over a foe. Loki felt his chest tighten in what he refused to admit was fear. If the Titan kept one trophy, would he not keep more?

With no way to bring her without causing further harm to her or endangering himself, he left her there to wander the vicinity. This place was unforgivably brittle; every step he took crumbled the ground and marked his progress. He wove a little magic to conceal his sounds and prevent discovery a while longer, and a little more to smooth his footsteps. His suspicions bloomed into certainty and he crunched forward with purpose. The caverns were full of nooks and crannies, pathways which looped back into themselves and served to confuse a pursuer. Or wanderer, in this case.

As he walked, he found what he anticipated: more members of the highest races from the Nine. A dark elf picked at the rocky wall and made no indication that it noted Loki's passage; a dwarf lay on the floor and stared upwards. There could only be eight, and yet he'd only seen three. A human, an elf, a dwarf - physically weaker species of the Nine. Where were the fire giants? The Vanir?

The Æsir?

He paused at the dwarf and leaned over to peer into the creature's blank face. Recognition slammed into him and he staggered one step back. This was Eitri, brother of Brock, who'd forged Mjolnir so many years ago and won a wager against the trickster himself. Even now, to see the dwarf still and broken, Loki could not stop a moment's irritation at the old wound.

Loki walked back to the dark elf and pulled him around by the shoulder. Malekith, the powerful ruler of the dark elves who once tried to withhold the trickster from a fight with a signed sheaf of paper. The fool.

_I know you_, the trickster thought, and bile rose in his throat. The common thread was troubling and left Loki to wonder why. Did Thanos regret his willingness to spare even one life? Or - more likely, now that Loki could think on it - the one life he spared was also the thread he used to pull across the realms. Each world dissolved to pieces, and the Mad Titan pulled the common threads attached to his little god-king to tear one, and only one, trophy from each of the Nine.

Fear mounted in his belly. He ignored it and pressed on, determined to find the remaining races in this barren place.

He discovered the trophy room after following a circuitous route up and then down a shallow path. Here he found the fire demon Surtur first, bound to the wall with thick metal cables to withstand the heat the creature might conjure even in its dimwitted defeat. Loki understood, now, why these were bound where the others were not. Even without minds to direct them, these races were more dangerous than those unbound. Their inborn reflexes could harm even Thanos.

Tension filled him as he walked. A light elf, curled into an iron cage and burned where the iron touched her skin. A Vanir, shackled straight to the barren ground to prevent him from raising his hands for a strike. Loki knew them both by tricks played in the past on behalf of Asgard - or himself.

The tension broke.

Loki stepped to the furthest compartment and stared at the resident. The Æsir was kneeling with his head down; white locks hung in clumps on either side of his face. His hands were bound to a thick, wooden restraint which rested on his shoulders and splayed the man's arms to either side.

An emotion rarely felt overwhelmed the trickster. Later he would name it grief if he weren't lying to himself. Loki fell to his knees before the Æsir.

"Thor," he said, and he shook the Æsir's shoulders with more desperation than was appropriate for the god of treachery. "_Thor_! You must wake!"

As Loki shook his brother, he realized that if the Titan had destroyed Jötunheimr, he himself would be trapped on this rock. The last of the frost giants, mind broken and lost, displayed alongside his adoptive brother until Thanos offered Death the final crumbs of the last races alive.

He reached for Thor's mind again, fanning out into the vastness he felt inside his brother's head. He sought the elder god in every possible cranny of that vastness, and knew now why Thor's mind had not responded to him earlier: in order to respond, it first had to exist.

Thor could not be so broken. The humans, the elves, even the Vanir - he could see how their minds might crack and crumble under the strain. Even other Æsir. But not Thor. Not arrogant, stubborn, churlish Thor. The trickster sucked in a deep breath and hissed into his brother's face.

''Wake up,'' he commanded. He pulled his hands away from the elder's shoulders and stared at the black marks left behind. He could heal them if he channeled his seiðr into the act. Another idea came to him instead.

''What is wrong, brother,'' he murmured, and spun his fingers in a summoning. ''Weary after this bout? I can help with that.'' He could imagine them standing in the midst of a battlefield, the shattered corpses of those Thor bested strewn around them. Electricity sparked between Loki's fingers.

''Do you remember this spell, brother? How you demanded I should learn it! To replenish your strength, you said. I told you no at first, saying that you could call your own lightning. There was no need for me to also call it.'' The electricity built and he spread his blue-black hands. Thor was still wearing his vestments; Loki could touch him without hurting him again.

''Do you remember what you replied? 'What if my arms are bound and I cannot.' I thought you an overcautious fool, and selfish too. You wanted me to learn so that even my magic served your interests.''

Loki placed his hand to Thor's chest. ''I was the fool.''

Power surged outward and Loki followed in his mind to trace its path. He was concerned that his brother did not immediately surge to awareness and roar in new-found energies. Still, his Æsir body responded as it should. The black marks dissolved into healthy flesh, and when the surge was done the room hummed with restrained power.

''Thor,'' the trickster pronounced. He was certain of his reception now. ''Look at me.''

Lightning had once driven Thor from death itself. Loki waited and his anticipation shriveled with the passage of time. He took the front of his brother's vest and shook him. Of a sudden, he felt panicked and utterly alone.

'Thor,'' he cried, ''brother! _Awake!_''

The younger god often dreamed of defeating his older brother. He had tried to kill him twice, and succeeded once. And despite this, he'd never thought to break the elder god. Subdue, perhaps - but more often his thoughts turned to death, a warrior's death which would allow Thor to take his rightful place in Valhalla.

There was no Valhalla left, and Thor was neither dead nor subdued. The electricity invigorated his body and yet there was nothing inside to revive.

Thor was gone.

* * *

The god of mischief sat with his back pressed to the wall, his knees akilter and one hand woven into his hair, a classic posture of distress. He did not weep, for even alone the thought was ghastly. Instead he stared at the bent back in front of him and and tried to still his mind enough to consider his options.

The air crackled with unspent energies. Loki had tried his spell twice more, each time with more force, to fill the thunder god to brimming with as much electricity as he could muster. Thor remained still and silent, and Loki might have wept save for the perceived shame of the action. He was not the type of man to fret without cause; he was the type of man to plan, initiate and foil. And Loki, master of illusion, felt the stirrings of a plan.

The crunch of heavy boots alerted him to another's approach, and the trickster flickered from sight in the same moment Thanos strode into the hall. The Titan surveyed the room; Loki saw the Gauntlet still on his hand, and was glad for his concealment. If Thanos suspected treachery, he might do anything he wished - and Loki understood that the Titan only wished for one outcome to any conflict, to please his mistress and gain her favor.

Thanos walked and viewed his trophies with clear pleasure. He gloated, even alone with no one to see, and Loki could not help a moment of recognition: he might be looking upon himself so many months before. Might even be looking upon himself now, had his efforts succeeded.

It was not an entirely comfortable thought.

Thanos came to Thor's prison and the fingers of the Gauntlet creaked as he flexed his hand. Loki tensed and prepared himself for...something. If Thanos decided to use the Gauntlet to destroy the thunder god, there was nothing Loki could do to stop him.

He settled himself then. It was better to die for a purpose than to die for naught. If Thor lost his life now, it wasn't for lack of Loki's efforts to revive him.

The Mad Titan did not destroy the Æsir, though. Instead he flickered his gauntleted fingers and drew some of the crackling electricity from the air itself.

"So you have some power left in you." Thanos closed his fist and the lightning dissolved into the Gauntlet. He smiled.

"Then you shall be the first of my trophies to meet my beloved." He reached for Thor's head, pressed his fingers together and seemed close to snapping -

This, of course, was when the stubborn, stupid, arrogant oaf decided to finally, _finally_ wake.


	25. Spatial

_But if you close your eyes,_

_Does it almost feel like_

_Nothing changed at all?_

_And if you close your eyes,_

_Does it almost feel like_

_You've been here before?_

_How am I gonna be an optimist about this?_

* * *

Thor woke to pain, and this angered him. He recognized the remnants of Loki's magic in the air, and in waking surrounded by this he wondered what foul trick his brother had played this time to knock the thunderer unconscious...again.

_When I find him, I will pound him so badly he will never again play his tricks!_

He attempted to raise his head and found a heavy weight pressing against the back of his neck and shoulders. His back muscles were sore, as though he had been bracing this weight for some time. His legs also ached - how long had he knelt here, unmoving?

Movement drew his attention ahead, where a pair of golden boots he did not recognize approached him in a threatening manner. Thor was transformed from bound prisoner to warrior through reflex. He felt energized, more so than he had in many years, and channeled this energy to his legs, which were unrestrained. He clenched his fists and ducked forward slightly, then rose in a sharp jolt, cracking the thick wooden brace against the face of the enemy - whoever they might be.

The roar of pain was certainly not Loki's voice, which allowed for a more violent response. The thunderer hefted the wooden trunk over his head and braced the center of the restraint against one knee. He wrenched and snapped the log in two, gifting both hands with splintered weapons which he swung at the stranger's chest and head.

"Thor, curse you, you cannot win this fight!" A hand grabbed the thunderer's bare shoulder, burning the skin black underneath it. Thor turned to snarl at his brother for interrupting and saw nothing - a blast of powerful energy from the Gauntlet slammed into his unarmored chest and threw him back against the wall. Unspent electricity zig-zagged into him and drove away the press of Death's embrace, reinvigorating the thunder god's strength.

He remembered this creature now, the sight of him tearing Asgard asunder with that cursed Gauntlet. The weight of destruction had driven Thor's mind away - but he was back now, stronger than before. He pointed a finger laced with lightning at the Mad Titan.

"I will kill you," he vowed with solemnity. The Titan laughed.

Loki still held Thor's shoulder, invisible though he was to both Thanos and his brother. He could not call upon the spell to rejuvenate Thor a fourth time without revealing his presence, which would cause the Titan to use the full power of the Gauntlet prematurely, to annihilate both Asgardians.

Loki needed the Titan to believe that this attack was Thor alone. He reached for the fluctuations around him and funneled the crackling electricity in the air through the thunder god and into a single burst from Thor's finger, aimed directly for the Titan's right eye. Thanos fell back with a cry of pain as his eye burst from the socket, caught unawares by his prisoner's apparent outburst of power. Loki wrested Thor to him while the Titan reeled, his eye already reforming as the Gauntlet shone with its power. Loki hauled on the much-abused tether elsewhere and seized Yggdrasil's branches. Both thunderer and trickster vanished from the cell into the in-between, leaving Thanos and his howling rage behind.

* * *

Loki could do nothing for Thor's shoulder in his current form. He had tried, initially, thinking he might warm the air nearby without having to touch the skin. His efforts failed, and the trickster pulled away from Thor to rethink his options while the older god watched him.

"Where are we, brother? This is no realm I know."

"It would not be," the trickster said as he wrapped his hand in thick cloth conjured from the ether. "This is the space between the realms, where Yggdrasil grows."

Thor stared up at the tree stretching further into the distance than his eyes could trace. "It is large, for sure, though not so bright as I would expect."

Loki only snorted at that, and did not bother to reply - a clear indication that Thor said something the trickster found buffoonish. Loki approached him again, raising the wrapped hand toward his shoulder.

"Stay still and let us see if I can fix your shoulder."

"It will heal on its own soon enough." With the electricity coursing through him, Thor could already feel the burned muscles mending themselves anew. Loki ignored him and placed the bound hand against the wound, prompting a flinch from the older god.

"Fool," Loki said as warmth radiated from his palm. "You allowed your arrogance to override your common sense - again. He might have killed you, and there is no Valhalla for your soul to join."

Thor gazed at this Jötun with his brother's voice and face. Markings rose along Loki's forehead and both cheeks, highlighting the angular structure of the trickster's face, and blood red eyes with a single black pupil in the center observed the state of his shoulder.

"Loki," Thor began, "is this -"

"Do not speak of it," the trickster snapped. He drew his hand away; the black mark was an ugly yellow, healing more by the moment. "Your body will do the rest. You must sit and regain your strength. The ground here is as stable as any, though harder to see."

The ground seemed nonexistent; Thor felt as though he settled against a solid black shadow, the gentle pulse of Yggdrasil's light the only source of comfort in this black space. Several feet away, Loki crouched and checked over the other being he dragged to this forsaken realm. Thor watched his younger brother prod at the mortal, then conjure a blanket of unintelligible color in the dim light which he used to wrap around her form.

Thor stared at the wrapped mortal as Loki leaned her back against a dimly glowing branch. "Brother, is that the woman Lynn Creed?"

"Yes," Loki said. He adjusted her head with delicate care and shifted the thick blanket to provide coverage for her in the chilled air. Thor watched the process with growing fascination.

"You found her in Thanos' dwelling?"

"Yes."

"And you did not leave her behind?"

"No." Loki straightened, satisfied, and returned to Thor's side. He pressed his hands to the black ground. Even in his Jötun form, with shadows concealing the majority of his features, Thor sensed the weariness flowing from the trickster. He drew his hands away from the ground to reveal a pile of kindling. Loki stood and grasped a smaller tendril of Yggdrasil which appeared on the verge of losing all light. He pulled the tendril from the tree with a savage jerk, and placed the writhing branch against the kindling.

"Thor," he said, "can you manage a small spark?"

"I do not have Mjolnir." The thunderer extended his hand; Loki took it up with his own bound hand and sighed. He dropped the thunderer's palm and snapped his fingers; a small spark started in the wooden brush. In seconds the fire took. The brothers watched as the flames grew to engulf the torn tendril, which shone brightly as it burned.

"This fire will burn for hours, fueled by Yggdrasil's energy. Rest, Thor."

The fire gave off a great amount of light without heat. Thor watched Loki carefully. "Perhaps she can be led back, as you have done for me."

"Her mind is frayed," the trickster snapped. "She is gone now."

"As was I." Thor nearly reached out to clasp his brother's arm. He restrained himself, fearing that the gesture would be taken poorly. "Your magic was my beacon. Perhaps it will be hers as well."

"I cannot use the same spell on her, Thor." Loki spoke slowly, as though addressing a simpleton. "She would be killed."

"Is there no gentler spell you might use?"

The trickster stared into the black distance for some time, rubbing his hands together in quiet contemplation, then reached over and touched the pads of his blue fingers to the corner of the blanket. Thor felt Loki's magic thrumming nearby, but was unable to determine the spell being used.

"What did you do?"

"Go to sleep, Thor." Loki stared into the fire, once more rubbing his palms together in lazy circles. "We have much to do when you are ready."

Thor wanted to pursue the topic, yet delayed his tongue. Here, with no one to witness the answer, the thunderer decided to ask a question he'd carried for years, close to his heart and buried away for no one to witness his grief.

"There is something I would ask you, brother, when there is no one to hear."

Loki raised his eyebrows and looked at Thor. "Do you think me less likely to lie? You were always the most gullible."

"I would ask anyway."

Loki waited. Thor nodded.

"Why did you tell me Father was dead?"

The trickster blinked. His red eyes glittered queerly in the flickering light of the fire. The markings on his face seemed to gleam in the shadows. "This is your question?"

"It is."

Loki looked back to the fire. Thor pressed on.

"You told me Father was dead, and Mother insisted on my banishment. Why?"

Loki's hands rubbed their lazy circles. He stared deep into the heart of the fire. When he spoke, his voice was so quiet that Thor strained to hear him above the crackling flames.

"It was only a pack of lies," the trickster began, "to keep you on Midgard. You would never return if you thought Father dead and Mother had rejected you."

"And what else?" Thor found this Jötun sitting near him easier to decipher than Loki in his Æsir form. Perhaps he could more easily see Loki behind the masks without the face of his little brother distracting him from his better senses.

Loki shook his head now, and Thor read distress in the line of his back and the curve of his jaw. "Leave it be, Thor."

"Tell me."

"No -"

Thor reached out and clenched Loki's armored arm. He shook the younger god and menaced him, a sudden effort to draw an outburst. Loki, already on edge, gave way to him immediately.

"I did not want to be alone!"

Loki ripped his arm away from Thor's hand and stood. The distance seemed to calm Loki's temper and leave distracted sorrow in its wake. "I felt my life ripped away. I was a stolen orphan, brought to the House of Odin as a bargaining chip." He looked upon Yggdrasil and shuddered. "To be Laufey's son..."

Thor stood and stepped closer to his brother. Loki continued speaking to the World Tree, his palms circling against each other.

"An orphan has no home, no family to call upon in times of need." He glanced at Lynn where she laid, eyes closed as though merely resting. "Family can be a terrible burden, but...it is better to have one. And I did not."

"We are brothers, Loki."

"No." The trickster dropped his hands. "We never were."

"We _always_ were." Thor clasped both of Loki's shoulders and pulled him around to face the thunderer. "I never rejected you, brother. Only your actions."

Loki stared at him. "How could you not reject me?"

"You are my brother." Thor wanted to clasp the trickster around the neck as he always did, but the action would burn his hand. "And I understand you better now."

Loki jerked away. "You understand nothing."

"You took my family away. That I might feel the pain you felt." Loki stared. He finally blinked and twisted his head to look away. "If I had discovered the same as you, alone and still able to wield Mjolnir...brother, you cannot think that I do not realize how much pain you must have felt." Thor quirked a smile at him. "You ensured that I understood rather well."

"Go to sleep, Thor," the trickster said. "You will make more sense after you have rested."

Thor sat and leaned against a thick root. He waited until Loki sat again, staring into the cold fire, before shutting his eyes to obey.

* * *

The warming spell would barely last an hour. Loki glanced at the blanket; Lynn remained unmoving underneath, save for the same shallow breaths as before. The trickster did not anticipate her waking in the same manner as Thor. She was merely a human, a species known for their fragility. If her mind shattered under the onslaught of destruction, the pieces were likely too scattered to reform.

He pushed Frigga's voice aside. Her disappointment would never come, now.

Loki looked back to the fire and rubbed his hands against each other, around and around. Thor was returned, which opened new opportunities even without Mjolnir. Loki pulled his thoughts toward plotting, only to find them circle away from his efforts to focus on the conversation Thor pressed out of him.

Loki could not say if it were a lie. When pressed, he was more likely to spin a yarn to conceal whatever he might want hidden - yet here, with Yggdrasil glowing in the darkness and his brother's earnest and all-too-recent vacant face staring into his, the yearning to be understood superseded the need to disguise.

Or did it? Loki snarled at his own efforts to ignore his troubled thoughts. He pushed to his feet and began pacing between Thor, Lynn and the fire, unable to remain still in the turmoil of his mind. On the third pass near Thor, he realized the thunderer was watching him with raised eyebrows. He stopped and watched back, unwilling to give even the slightest acknowledgement that Thor's observation bothered him.

"Well?" he prompted. Thor looked to Lynn, who remained still, then stood.

"I feel fuller of life than I have in years, brother. Walk with me."

When Loki glanced at Lynn, Thor added, "She will be safe, will she not? Show me this realm of yours."

"It is hardly my realm," Loki replied as he fell in stride with the older god. The two of them walked several dozen yards at a relaxed pace, never losing sight of the fire which marked their site. "I am not the only magician to find this place, nor am I the first to view Yggdrasil's branches."

Thor did not miss his brother's self-characterization. "Surely you do not consider yourself equal in abilities to a simple magician."

"Not so powerful as that," Loki said, and Thor smiled to hear his tease accepted.

"Who else has discovered these pathways?"

"It is a tree, Thor," the trickster said. "Like any tree, it has parasites which feed on the branches and roots. We are shielded from their detection."

Thor paused in his steps, and Loki turned to face him.

"Brother," Thor said gravely, "you cannot expend all of your strength concealing us. We will battle these creatures if need be to conserve your strength."

"No," Loki replied. "We have only just recovered your mind." And the trickster said nothing more of the creatures which inhabited this place.

The mention of Thor's mind brought pensive silence, and they began to walk again. Thor broke the quiet first, his voice as dim as the tree above them.

"Asgard has fallen," Thor murmured. "Our mother and father were swept away with the realm."

"All of the Nine are gone, Thor." Loki pointed at the gently glowing limbs of Yggdrasil. "The World Tree is dying before us. Only Jötunheimr remains, with no life upon it. Yggdrasil is fading as it feeds upon its own energies to sustain itself."

The pronouncement carried more weight than Loki expected. He looked at Thor and saw his brother's grimace of pain. The fall of Asgard had torn his mind away, but to hear of the remaining Nine - and Loki remembered, too late, that Thor had more than a passing investment in Midgard. The destruction of Thor's favored realm had taken his mortal lover with it.

Loki gave the thunderer a moment alone, walking ahead until Thor's voice beckoned him to ease his pace.

"And when Yggdrasil is no more?"

"The in-between will collapse with nothing to brace it." Loki looked grimly behind them toward the fire, hazy in the distance. "All will truly be lost, then."

"Then we will prevent Yggdrasil's death," the thunderer proclaimed. Loki raised both eyebrows.

"How would you suggest we do so, when Thanos has the Gauntlet?"

"You fooled him before, even with the Gauntlet, did you not?"

"Yes," Loki agreed, "and that plan will not work again. He will be vigilant against treachery, and the Gauntlet will alert him the moment we are on Jötunheimr."

"You say the Nine are gone, brother?" Loki nodded. "What of other worlds?"

Loki stopped. "Which realm would you have us visit?"

"The Chitauri world, if it still stands."

The trickster's blue face and red eyes revealed nothing. "Why?"

"We will need weapons - I believe Mjolnir was left there, and the Chitauri will have their weapons still, if the ice has not damaged them beyond repair."

Loki tilted his head to look at the limbs spreading far above. "Weapons will not suffice in a battle against the Gauntlet."

"It is not the Gauntlet we face, brother, but Thanos. You have seen him fight, now - surely you can devise a plan to take advantage of his weaknesses."

Loki sighed. The air whistled through his teeth. "I will need to check before I take us there. It would serve nothing to drag you into a black void."

"And how will you check, brother?" Thor gripped Loki's shoulder to pull him around and meet his eyes. "You cannot mean to expose _yourself_ in such a manner."

"I will survive it," the trickster said, and pulled himself away from Thor's hand. "I have before."

They were by the fire now, still burning as brightly as before, as Loki had claimed it would. The brothers stood, one staring into the bright flames, the other looking over the small mortal woman. Thor looked up from the fire to see his brother's gaze, and stepped closer to Lynn. He crouched and tucked the blanket around her shoulders, as he would a small child, and paused when he felt the heat imbued into the cloth. He made no comment on the discovery - merely turned to Loki and presented his most affable smile.

"We will be safe, brother."

"And what tether shall I use for this endeavor?"

Thor stood to give weight to his words. "You have one on each of the Avengers, do you not? Should the world exist, they will be there as well."

They stared at each other, Thor's demeanor clouding as he realized Loki's silence was as damning as an outright admission.

"Of course," Loki finally said.

"Make haste, then. I tire of this delay."

"An easy position for one who is filled with energy," the trickster groused. Thor laughed while Loki plucked and pulled at branches, weaving them into a sturdy root to tug him across the space between. He paused, thinking on who he might try - reached, snarled the strongest tether, and felt resistance - and pulled himself into the void.

* * *

The battle ended with a massive blast of power which threw those Avengers remaining on their feet away from Thanos. Blackness swarmed them afterwards as they were forced, collectively, into unconsciousness - and they'd woken later at the same time, to see nothing left of the Mad Titan and themselves still surrounded by the frozen corpses of their one-time enemies.

Steve regretted having no medical training outside of basic first aid, and thanked God that the Æsir came equipped with dozens of the healing stones they used in the place of modern medicine. He set Sif's arm with help from the lady warrior herself, who gritted her teeth and grunted in pain when the bones clicked into place. Steve found Sif's pouch of the stones and crumbled three over her arm. Within moments, the pain left her brow and her breathing evened out. She sighed and looked at him, then behind him where the green beast pulled at Tony's damaged suit. The chest plate was sunken in from the direct strike it received; the Hulk ripped the metal clear, and Tony gasped for air, pounding his chest with his fist.

"That hurt really bad," the inventor said to the Hulk, who transformed into Banner and knelt next to Tony.

"Don't try to get up," Banner commanded while he prodded at Tony's chest. "You might have fractured ribs."

"Nothing's fractured, JARVIS checked before he conked out. Get outta my - ow! Don't poke there!"

"Like I said, fractured ribs." Banner prodded the spot more gently. "Maybe just cracked. You'll need to be careful."

"The stars," Sif said as she looked into the black sky. "The stars are gone, swallowed up as though by a great wolf -"

"Don't think about it," Steve said, and pulled her to her feet. "We have bigger problems." He took two more rocks and walked to Bruce, offering them to help with Tony's injury.

"Like how to get the hell off this rock," Clint said. The archer was pulling himself out of a deep hollow in the side of a glacier, where he'd been tossed before Thanos went for Loki. "Do you think the boat's still there?"

Steve approached him to help. Together, they wrestled the archer free of the ice. "We'll have to try it."

"Thor has not come," Sif said. Steve realized she was starting to lapse into the numbness that indicated shock. He grabbed her shoulder and snapped his fingers in front of her eyes until she focused on his hand. Behind him, Tony's armor clicked and fell to the ground as he and Banner hit the safety releases to free him of the metal.

"Sif, stay with us."

She appeared to gather herself this time. "Thor has not come," she said with a stronger tone, "which means he might be injured."

"Then we head for the boat as soon as possible. Everyone good to walk?"

"Sure, boss," Tony said as he swayed on his feet, buckling the metal gloves of his suit in place on both hands. "Fit as kittens."

"I need to find Natasha," Barton said. Sif and Steve exchanged a look. Clint rolled his shoulders.

"I have to try."

"We'll all look, Clint." Steve nodded to Banner. "Once we find the boat, Bruce can follow the trail. We won't leave her behind."

Sif clasped Clint's arm in solidarity. "The Warriors Three would not allow her to come to harm. They would defend her with their very lives, if necessary."

"Let's move out," Steve ordered. The group began the slow, painful trek back to the mountainside.

* * *

_Where have you gone, little godking_.

Thanos skimmed Jötunheimr with his fingers, the air rippling as he inspected every nook and cranny. That the thunder god had vanished in a manner so similar to the trickster's own travels was suspect - it took only seconds to recognize the trickster's unique signature. Thanos had given no thought to warding his home from Loki, believing that without the Tesseract to guide him, he was stranded. Left to rot on Jötunheimr, alone and as abandoned as his first living days on that same realm. Discarded to an inevitable fate, just as the accursed mortals on the Chitauri world.

And yet the thunder god vanished, and with him the woman. Had it been the god alone, Thanos might have believed the lie. Now he sought out the trickster, and found himself deceived. Loki was nowhere - the Titan expanded the search to include the furthest reaches of infinity and found no trace of him.

Which meant that Loki must be able to travel in a manner beyond what he had revealed to the Titan, the same manner which allowed him to remain unseen by the Gauntlet now.

The Mad Titan could not accept that any ability, no matter how trivial, stood outside his grasp. With the Gauntlet to guide him, he should control all that there was and ever could be - and yet the bringer of Ragnarok slipped his grasp as easily as a fish through water.

Thanos, haunted by his injured hubris, could not allow the trickster a skill he himself lacked. With determined concentration, the Titan began performing a series of experimental trials using the Gauntlet's power as his beacon.

* * *

"Barton," Tony called, "you gotta slow down buddy."

"Why don't you scout ahead, Clint," Steve said. "Let us know if you see anything."

It was a terrible excuse that Barton took full advantage of by striding ahead at an accelerated pace, leaving the others behind to clear his muddled head. Clint appreciated Steve's willingness to give him some space. There was nothing left to guard against in this world, unless the Chitauri were alive under all that ice. Maybe if the ice melted they would come alive again, like a children's cartoon.

Natasha liked watching the older cartoons Clint had seen as a young boy. She thought the dialogue was clever, and was unsurprised to learn that the Looney Tunes were originally created with adults in mind.

Clint put those thoughts aside and looked ahead, trying to spot the boat in the distance. So far all he had found were corpses, ice and rocks.

The air in front of him shifted, and a blue man in Loki's clothes stepped out of nothing at all.

"I found something," the archer cried, stumbling backwards while nocking an arrow. The trickster blinked in surprise and raised his hands in the universal signal of non-aggression; Clint pulled the arrow back and tossed over his shoulder, "I think it's Loki."

"He-who-can't-be-named is here?" Tony limped into view, rubbing his chest and panting heavily from the exertion. "Well I'll be."

"I mean no harm," Loki said in the same moment Sif yelled, "where is Thor?" The lady warrior advanced past Clint, who adjusted his grip to avoid releasing the arrow with Sif in the way, and snarled into Loki's blue face. "What have you done with him?"

"Sif, we don't know that Thor's gone," Steve said as he caught up, followed by Bruce who was rubbing his bare arms and chest against the cold.

"You are all alive," the trickster said in a tone of wonder. "How very curious."

"Loki, I swear by the Norns -"

"You better answer the lady, blue." Tony raised one hand, covered in a blaster, and charged the power. "We're not friends enough to hold her back."

"Thor is safe in the in-between," Loki said. He lowered his hands, watching Sif. "Amma Lynn is with him, though I am not certain I would call her safe as well."

"Meaning what?" Clint asked. Loki still did not look at any of the mortals, focusing all of his attention on Sif.

"Sif," he said gently, "Asgard is gone."

"You lie," she whispered. When Loki only continued to meet her eyes, she reached forward and shoved him away by the chest. "You are a liar!"

"I am," the trickster replied, "but not about this. The Nine have fallen."

"What does that mean?" Steve asked. Sif was nearly white with rage - no, _fear_, Steve realized as her pupils dilated - and Tony looked shell-shocked.

"It cannot be true," Sif said as Tony turned to walk several paces, distancing himself from the rest of the group. Sif said nothing further, expecting Loki to fill the silence in response to her plea. When the trickster remained silent, she turned to Steve and spoke quietly to him.

"It will be better to address the full group at once," she said. Her breath came in short pants of fear, and Steve wanted very badly to know what was causing her so much distress. He looked at the team standing nearby, then back to Sif.

"This might be the full group, Sif." He looked between Sif and Loki. "One of you, tell us what's going on."

"It seems your metalsmith already understands," Loki said, peering at Tony, who stood at a distance with clenched fists.

"Well, I don't," Steve said. "Stop stalling. What's going on?"

"The Nine are the nine realms of Yggdrasil," Loki said. "They have fallen to Thanos' power - not conquered, but gone. Only Jötunheimr remains, with no life to sustain the tree."

Steve felt only a bit more enlightened after that explanation, and was about to ask for more information when Tony interrupted, sounding slightly drunk and completely dazed.

"It means they're all gone, Cap. _Gone_. Earth is gone." His eyes were red-rimmed. Steve felt as though he'd taken a solid hit to the gut; the air rushed from his lungs in a gasp, and his vision swam.

"Wait," Bruce said, "you're saying he took out the entire known universe?"

"Yes," Loki replied.

"How do we know you're not lying?" Barton had not disarmed his bow, though he'd lowered it to his side. Loki raised both hands again; there was no teasing smirk on his face to hint at the jest.

"Thor witnessed Asgard's fall; he will enlighten you where I cannot."

"Thor is well?" Sif asked. Loki raised his eyebrows at her.

"Well enough, now."

"Can you take us to him?"

Loki looked at the assembled team. "Not all at once; one at a time, perhaps, though my strength wanes."

None of them could argue that the trickster was lying; despite his reputation, the circles under his eyes were undeniable and even Thor had moments of weariness. It stood to reason that his brother would share the same trait.

"Come with us," Steve said. "We're headed for the boat, then we're going to find Natasha and the others."

"The boat?" Loki creased his brow and looked into the distance, expecting a large water-going vessel to be perched on a distant glacier.

Bruce interrupted his speculation. "It's what we call the Tesseract's machine."

"Pepper thought it was cute," Tony slurred. His eyes roamed over the landscape, searching for something he would never find.

"The Tesseract is here still?" Loki asked.

"We think so," Bruce said. "Unless Thanos took it."

"He would not have need of its power any longer. Nothing is beyond him now." The trickster tapped his chin. "I, however, might still find some use in its abilities."

"Why are you blue?" Tony still sounded drunk, and his focus was everywhere at once. Loki ignored him while Clint tugged gently at the inventor's arm and started them on the path toward the landing spot again. Steve pointed Sif in the same direction, and she followed automatically, a soldier reacting to a command. Steve felt better with her watching over Clint and Tony; if anything should jump out at the heartsick humans, she would help defend them.

He turned to Loki and crossed his arms.

"Why would we let you anywhere near the Tesseract? We haven't forgotten what you tried last time."

"My power is not unlimited, as the Tesseract's. We must stay in the in-between. The longer I remain within the realms, the greater a chance of detection by Thanos. He is master of all the known universe - but he cannot access the in-between."

"How do you know he hasn't already found you?"

"I live."

Bruce raised his eyebrows at that while Steve considered their options. Ultimately, if Loki wanted the Tesseract he could take it without any issues. Steve remembered Bruce's guess about Loki's destruction of the Chitauri: was this all an attempt to join their cause?

"Fine," the Captain said. "Come on, then. Bruce, keep an eye on him."

They followed Clint, Tony and Sif in tense silence.

* * *

Natasha was not one to stand her ground when she knew she could not win a fight. When Thanos appeared to them, the Warriors Three attacked with practiced precision that spoke to the centuries of experience the three had fighting as a team. Natasha hung back until she could gauge the Titan's strengths, and realized when one blow sent Volstagg to the ground hard enough to split the ice that this was not a fight she could win hand-to-hand. She would need to either stay outside of the Titan's range, or make sure none of his blows hit her.

Ten years ago, she would have stayed out of range, even run from the fight. Her time with SHIELD had given her a sense of justice and honor - a malleable sense, but a nagging one as well, and watching the three Æsir fight had pricked her long-dormant conscience into plucking her heart strings.

And then Fandral, while wielding a shield to parry a particularly nasty blow, had turned to her and told her to flee.

_Not on your life_.

Natasha flung herself into the fight, dashing in between the Æsir's blows to connect her own. She quickly discovered that the Titan's skin was solid, and a direct blow caused her more pain than it did him - so she instead used the spear as both slice and bludgeon, stabbing into any sensitive-seeming spots she could find.

The fight was one-sided, and doomed to fail from the beginning. When Hogun fell with a sharp cry of pain, she called to Fandral and Volstagg to fall back. Volstagg stumbled; Natasha saw red on the white ice beneath him. Fandral and Volstagg both grabbed one of Hogun's feet and pulled him away from the Titan, who laughed at their retreat.

And yet he didn't follow. They had pulled themselves under an outcropping to regroup, and collapsed together under an onslaught of blackness. Now awake, the warriors and Natasha were under an ice shelf. Fandral sat tending to Hogun's bloodied arm while Natasha inspected the deep gash cut into Volstagg's side.

"You are clever, Lady Natasha," Volstagg said to her in between gasps of pain. "He could not touch you while you leapt about."

"Yes, a very daring maneuver," Fandral agreed. Hogun was pale, and the ice underneath him had a similar color to that underneath Volstagg. Fandral cracked a healing stone over the broken and torn skin. "You should not have fought, my friend. This arm may never heal properly."

"Do you have one of those rocks?" Natasha asked Volstagg. He nodded and tugged at the pouch on his belt; Natasha pulled one free and tried to crack it. She grunted with effort, then looked up when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Volstagg took the stone, held it over his wound and crumbled the rock. The wound sealed while Natasha watched.

"Neat trick," she said as she stood up and looked at Fandral. He was focused on Hogun's healing, though they could all see that the rocks had only brought the arm partially back to health.

"You've torn off the newly grown skin," Fandral said quietly. "I have done what I can; keep it wrapped, will you?" Hogun patted the bandage; he was still pale from blood loss, and when he tried to stand he swayed on his feet. Fandral climbed underneath one arm to hold his friend steady.

"We have to head for the boat," Natasha said, hefting Hogun's remaining arm over her shoulder. "The others will go that direction, if they're still alive."

"Why did he not finish the fight with us?" Fandral asked. The four of them looked at each other before Hogun answered.

"We were not who he was looking for."

It was a grim reality. They started the slow journey back to the boat, heavy with the burden of foreboding.

* * *

"Natasha," Clint called the moment he saw the boat up ahead. "Natasha! Are you there?"

When her red head appeared from behind the Tesseract's fluctuating blue energy, Clint nearly lost his composure to run to her and make sure she was real. Tony's sluggish plodding next to him held him back; the devastated inventor didn't need to see a happy reunion.

"We're all here, Clint." She looked behind him; Clint watched her take in the stragglers, and saw the moment she realized who was walking with Bruce and Steve. Without a word, her stance hardened and her eyes became flint.

"I know," Barton said to her. "He said he has Thor."

"Against his will?" The flint gave way to concern.

"There's nowhere left to go," Tony replied. Natasha looked at him with confusion, then Clint, who raised his hand to ward off her question.

"I'll tell you in a second. What's wrong with Hogun?"

"He stripped the new skin when he fought Thanos. We need to get him back to Asgard for healing."

Sif strolled past both of the assassins and headed straight for the Warriors Three to check on them - and began a murmured conversation for their ears alone. Volstagg collapsed to the ground while Fandral's eyes widened to the point of pain; Hogun became paler, and even from this distance Natasha clearly heard his incredulous "What?!"

Natasha looked at Clint, who met her eyes and nodded. She took one step back and pressed a hand to her chest, where her heart hammered her rib cage.

"Fury," she said, and Tony suddenly popped alive as though this were the word he'd been waiting to hear.

"What would Fury do?" he asked. "Is he the 'I told you so' type?"

"He'd come up with a plan to strike back," Steve said as he, Bruce and Loki brought up the rear of the group. Steve looked over the Æsir and Natasha; Volstagg was holding his head in both hands, shaken. Steve remembered seeing children and a wife around the older Æsir warrior over the past few months.

Loki stepped forward toward the boat, and stopped when Clint walked into his path, arrow once again aimed for his eye socket. Loki sighed and waved his hand at the archer, as though brushing away a fly.

"Be gone, Agent Barton. You know as well as I do what will happen if you attempt to stop me."

Barton didn't move. "You'll have one less eye, and the Hulk will have a new toy."

"Let him through," Steve said. Barton blinked and stepped aside; Loki advanced without a word of gloating, which spoke more to the trickster's exhaustion than any of his previous actions.

"So," said Natasha, trying to ignore the trickster prodding at the Tesseract in her peripheral vision, "a plan to strike back?"

"Well damn," said Tony, "avenging everything ever is pretty good motivation. Let's do it."

"Not here," Bruce said. "If what Loki said is true, then Thanos has eyes all over the universe."

"How do we fight the universe?"

"I have some thoughts," the trickster said as he stepped away from the machine. The Tesseract appeared less agitated, the colors a gentle swirl across the surface. "Agent Romanov, your spear, if you please."

Natasha turned to look at Loki, prepared to refuse to hand over his old weapon for the trick - but Loki was standing to the side and pointing into the slot on the machine, indicating that she should activate the power rather than hand the device over. She looked at Steve, who nodded, and inserted the spearhead into the machine. The Tesseract hummed to life; the air nearby shifted and bent, though no clear doorway opened for their use. Loki sighed so quietly that only Natasha heard the sound, and if asked she might say she heard some relief in the trickster's breath.

"This will sustain the opening without need for my seiðr. Step inside, quickly - Thanos will have felt the Tesseract's energy."

The trickster did not wait for any of them to take the first leap; he strode straight into the air and vanished in a ripple of light. Natasha looked at Clint, who was watching Steve.

Steve hesitated; Tony did not.

"Welp," the inventor said, and walked at the spot where Loki vanished. He, too, shimmered from sight; Bruce stepped closer, his eyes shining with bright scientific interest.

Sif pulled at Volstagg's arm and the man slowly dragged himself to his feet; Fandral hefted Hogun once more, and the Æsir approached the space as a group.

"Loki would not put himself in danger before others," Sif said to Steve. "If this is a trick, I would rather know the snare."

The Æsir rippled and vanished, leaving only the four remaining Avengers. Steve looked at his three teammates, then stepped forward into the air. One by one, each of them followed to enter the in-between.


	26. Banish

Loki had not anticipated finding himself hosting eleven additional refugees within the in-between. His power was stretched between Thor, Lynn and himself - to add the additional five Avengers along with Thor's Æsir friends meant that the trickster would have to pick and choose who to sacrifice to the native parasites of the World Tree. He found the choice no challenge, but Thor would protest if his friends were to start disappearing into the darkness. Loki shuddered to think of the thunderer's opinion should he discover how Loki abandoned the others to their own fates.

It was a boon, then, that the Tesseract had been left behind by the Titan. The trickster might tap into its power to increase his ability to shield everyone at once, rather than be forced to spread himself too thin to serve any use to any of them. However, he first needed to know how these mortals tapped into the same power source with their own machine. He could manipulate the Tesseract for a short portion of time, as he had done to create this very portal - but the doorway was short-lived and would close moments after the final Avenger entered the in-between.

Loki could not wait for the group. Rather than pause to make sure all of them followed, he strode ahead into the darkness. A fire flickered in the distance, guiding his hurried steps, and he was so focused on his goal that Tony's voice startled him into a momentary stop.

"So, where are we going?"

Loki turned to face him. He had run to catch up and was swelling with accusation and mistrust. Loki, never one to resist a good tease, smiled lazily.

"Such lack of trust, and so undeserving."

Tony narrowed his eyes, but instead of replying he turned to watch the approach of Thor's Æsir friends.

"Loki, at ease," Fandral said, holding Hogun under the arm, and now with Volstagg and Sif taking up the rear four of Thor's friends were within speaking distance. Loki did not want to converse with any of them, and turned on his heel to continue hurrying away.

"Loki -" Fandral began, only to be cut off by the trickster himself.

"There is no time. Thanos will have felt the Tesseract's power." There was more, but Loki kept the remainder to himself. Thor's friends were less than worthless for the needed task, so he saw no purpose in including them in his urgency.

He abandoned them there, dragging their injured friend between them and unconcerned over whether they could see where he was headed. The only beacon to see flickered up ahead, drawing friends and foe alike. Loki needed the Tesseract soon to force those which made the in-between home away.

He burst into the makeshift camp ground and paused. Thor was standing to the side with fists braced and turned wild eyes to Loki.

"Loki," he said, "there were -"

"I know." The trickster approached slowly, uncertain of his reception. "We must hurry, Thor. The Chitauri world still stands."

"I will not leave Lynn Creed alone." The wildness had not yet left Thor's expression. Loki stopped advancing and glanced behind the thunderer. Lynn was still and silent as before, bundled thickly inside of a blanket. Thor would not allow him close enough to check on her. Loki raised both hands in a gesture of peace.

"Your friends will be here shortly, and will protect her in your absence."

"My friends?" The wildness began to fade, and the more jovial side of Thor's nature emerged. "You discovered them alive?"

"Yes, Thor," and the trickster was gratified with perfectly planned timing, as the words barely left his lips before Fandral and Volstagg entered the scene, Hogun braced among them.

Loki felt the headache even before it manifested.

"My friends," Thor boomed with great abandon. "You live yet! But where is Sif?"

"Stayed back with the metalsmith," Fandral said while Volstagg helped Hogun to the ground. "She wanted to assist Steve and the others."

"All alive?" Thor sounded baffled. Loki stepped behind him and crouched, pressing his fingers against Lynn's blanket to infuse more warmth into the cloth.

"All alive," Loki admitted, "and coming this way. Amma Lynn will be protected, and once I have the Tesseract I will shield all of us."

"Should we not wait, to ensure that the mortals join us safely?"

"There is no time, Thor." Loki straightened and looked the thunderer in the eye. "The Tesseract was awakened - he will have felt that, and come to collect it, or finish the world where it rests. We must go."

"Brother -"

Loki grabbed a handful of Thor's vest.

"Do not argue," he commanded, and reached for a branch of Yggdrasil. While Thor's friends watched, the two of them vanished.

From the darkness left behind, a low, slurping grumble rose.

* * *

Sif could not abandon the mortals to a chance fate. She sent her Æsir companions forward and pressed back with the metalsmith to retrace their steps. They had not come far, ultimately, and she was nearly upon the portal Loki created when Tony asked a question of her.

"Can we trust him?"

"No," she replied immediately. There was no question in her entire being about the true nature of Thor's false-begotten traitor brother. His actions had led to this - _all_ of this - and now Asgard was gone and the last remnants of the Nine had no realms to return to.

"Great," Tony said. "I guess we get to dance."

"It is a fool who dances to the trickster's tune," Sif replied.

"Do we have choices here?"

"I am uncertain," she said. "If Thor truly lives, he will assist us."

The portal shimmered, and Steve emerged from the nothing. The three stared at each other, mutually surprised by his sudden appearance, until Natasha appeared from behind, forcing the soldier forward. Clint and Bruce followed in turn, and all six of them took a long, silent moment to turn and survey their surroundings.

"Where _is_ this?" Clint asked.

"Loki calls this the 'in-between.'"

"Holy cow," Bruce said, staring up at the gently glistening tree which spanned miles and miles above them. "Is this the World Tree?"

A slithering, deep grumble echoed across nothing at all. Tony and Bruce exchanged a look.

"I am not meeting any Shoggoths today," the inventor said, and charged both repulsors.

"What's a Shoggoth," Steve asked, in the same moment Natasha pointed and said, "There's a fire." They all turned and watched the inviting flames beckon them closer. Sif clenched her jaw.

"Loki does illusions," Clint said. "Is it a trick?"

"Let's find out," Steve said, and waved them all forward. "We can't stand here forever."

As a tired, bedraggled group, they started forward toward the light.

The rumbling growls slithered ever closer as they walked.

* * *

Thor trusted his brother, often when there was no evidence to support that trust. In the past few years, that trust had led to a downward spiral of antagonism and pain, and he was hard-pressed to admit that he had never thought, for one moment, how much easier life would be if Odin had simply left that baby to die.

It was a terrible notion, to hold the actions of the cruel adult against the innocent child he had once been, but Thor was far from perfect in his thoughts. He might appear overly forgiving, and he might even act upon that perception and offer his brother more chances than most would be willing to. Yet alone, either in his head or the rare moments when a Crown Prince was truly alone in his quarters, the thunderer indulged in a different set of thoughts. He had witnessed far too many tears from his dear mother and father, too much destruction wrought upon the innocent of Midgard, and too many deceptions aimed at himself to resist occasional moments of weakness.

In the instant Loki took his vest, commanded him to silence and ripped them across the realms, Thor wanted very badly to pull himself from his brother's grasp and demand a longer explanation for these abrupt actions. Their world was gone, and himself no longer a Crown Prince to a mighty realm - but he remained the elder and a leader of Asgardian forces, unaccustomed to following the command of another.

They materialized and Loki released him. Thor stumbled a step and blinked, his eyes struggling to adjust to a stronger light than the dimmed World Tree. He looked up to see the source of such brightness and saw a great black expanse, lacking in stars or other signs of a world beyond this rocky realm. The light instead emanated from the side, splashing over a hill in blue-white pulsations.

"This is as close as I dared bring us," Loki said, staring at the white halo of power. "Thanos may yet be watching. Find Mjolnir, quickly, and I will fetch the Tesseract."

"Not alone," Thor said, and took his brother's sleeved arm. "If Mjolnir is here, it will come when I call upon it."

Loki turned burning red eyes to Thor. The thunderer thought his brother might request that Thor release him, and clenched his fingers in anticipation. Loki's face tightened - and he looked away.

"All right, Thor," the younger said, and Thor loosened his fingers in surprised gratitude. "Come with me, and remain silent. I will cloak both of us to prevent sight, but I lack the strength to silence our sounds as well."

"You have not rested, brother," Thor said, and released his brother's arm so that they could fall in step with each other as they walked.

"I do not rest," Loki replied.

"By choice or by necessity?" Thor asked. Loki chuckled.

"Do not concern yourself with my affairs," he said. Thor looked about the ice-coated landscape.

"I must, Loki. It appears that you flounder when I attempt to leave you to your devices."

"I am not a fool," Loki snapped.

"No, you merely conspired with Asgard's greatest enemy."

"Thanos was not -"

"I am not referring to Thanos."

The brothers stopped together when they crested the ridge. The Tesseract pulsed below them, its power radiating outward from the mortal construct housing it. Loki turned his head, inspecting the outcropping for signs of tampering or traps.

"Be silent, Thor," he muttered. "We are in the realm of the beast now."

As methods of halting a conversation went, Thor admitted that this was a fine angle. Still, he took exception to Loki's description of their foe, and voiced his discontent.

"He is no beast, brother - merely a Titan, which our father once defeated. We, too, will triumph over his power."

"He did not have the Gauntlet then," Loki said, and ignored the rest. Thor did not draw attention to the familial claim and Loki's lack of outburst in the meantime.

The Tesseract sat within the mortal machine and shone brightly in the otherwise-dark landscape, a flashing beacon of power. Should anything still live in this realm, Thor thought it might be called in this direction, and Loki was not keen on dawdling. There was no time to waste debating with his brother. Thor held forth his hand toward the scene below and summoned Mjolnir to him.

The hammer whipped through the air and slammed into his open palm within seconds. The thunderer held his hand aloft and felt energy sizzle through his body at the reunion.

"He left it be," Thor said with ill-concealed joy. He turned when Loki did not reply to share his excitement and found Loki vanished; the trickster was already gone to collect the Tesseract. Thor looked forward again and tried to spot his brother's shadow among the darkness. Though Loki had shrouded them both from sight, he had not prevented them from seeing each other.

The Tesseract appeared frenzied, its colors swirling rapidly and illuminating the mountainside. Thor thought he saw a dark hand reach into the machine - and instead of taking the Tesseract, the hand grasped the handle of Loki's scepter and pulled it free of the machine. The Tesseract's energies ceased instantly, plunging the realm into black save for a small circle of blue-hued light surrounding the machine. Thor thought he might have bellowed, but the raging noise continued and he realized it was not his own voice roaring in anger.

Thanos manifested from the darkness, the Gauntlet now providing light where the Tesseract did not shine. As the light flashed, Thor saw his brother standing before the machine with scepter in hand - but he wore no look of triumph. Rather, his eyes were wide and fearful, an instant of weakness dragged into the light.

Thor spun his hammer and prepared for battle. Thanos would likely kill them both with the Gauntlet, but Thor could not abandon his brother in a time of obvious need.

"Thanos," he called, "I have pledged to kill you!"

The Titan turned as Loki plunged a hand into the machine and took up the Tesseract. The sizzle of burning flesh echoed even to where Thor stood. Thanos pointed his gloved hand at Thor and power built around the fingers, bright red against the night. The thunderer braced himself for impact - possibly for death itself - and an embankment of fog rose up between the two.

The fog carried hues of gold, green, red and blue, and a form began to take shape. A vision bloomed: a woman, harsh and cruel and beautiful, rimmed with bones and disease and famine. Death.

"Thanos," she said, and Thor heard carcasses and rot in her voice. Loki's hand grasped his arm and tugged him to the side.

"Idiot," the trickster hissed, "forever challenging a foe you cannot hope to defeat! Away, Thor, away!"

The thunderer ran alongside his brother, whose hands held both the scepter and the Tesseract. He had not wrapped his fingers to shield them from the cube's power, and his fingers burned bright against the solid object.

"Where are we going," Thor called as they ran. "Can you not transport us now?"

"We must be further. I cannot hold the illusion and our concealment - here, this should be fine." Loki stopped and offered the scepter.

"Take this, and I will open the way. Quickly, Thor!"

Thor accepted the scepter with a shocked expression. That his brother would relinquish the weapon so easily -

Loki's face was strained and taut with exertion. He was struggling to hold the vision; the brothers were no longer concealed, and now he attempted to open a portal to let them into the in-between. Thor reached for the Tesseract; Loki snarled and jerked it away.

"No, fool, I am using its power -"

The air wavered, and Loki shoved Thor forward by the arm. The thunderer stepped into the in-between as a howl pierced his ears.

"The illusion collapsed," Loki panted out, "quickly!"

Thor took his brother's hand and pulled him through the portal. They staggered into the in-between and Loki collapsed to his knees, tossing the Tesseract to the ground before him and gripping his wrist in pain. Thor reached to check the hand and Loki hissed him away.

"I am not an invalid," he said, and pushed to his feet with a grimace. "Give me the scepter, it will help me to balance."

"Loki, you must rest," Thor insisted. "You have demanded too much of yourself -"

"The Tesseract is infinite," Loki said, and this time he wrapped his hand before reaching for the cube. Thor stepped between the trickster and his target to prevent Loki from touching it again.

"No, brother. I will bear this burden." Thor slid Mjolnir into the holster at his hip, gave the scepter over, and took the cloth from Loki, then wrapped his palm before reaching down to take up the Tesseract. Even with the layers, he felt the cube burning through.

"Quickly, then," Loki said, and turned to begin walking, leaning heavily upon the scepter.

"That woman - that was Death?"

"I needed to distract Thanos before he killed us both and took the Tesseract. Just think of your friends, Thor, trapped forever in the in-between until the Tree perishes."

"You have seen Death?"

Loki paused and raised his eyebrows, looking at Thor.

"This troubles you?"

That Thor should have asked at all was evidence enough. Thor answered Loki's question with another of his own: "When?"

"Thanos introduced me many times over." The trickster began walking again. Thor switched hands to relieve the burning sensation from his fingers. The process was slow and methodical, unwrapping one set of fingers in favor of another, and Thor took the opportunity to think on Loki's declaration.

"Loki, did Thanos torture you?"

The trickster laughed and did not even stutter in his steps.

"No, Thor - is that what you suspect? No. I chose my actions as surely as you choose yours."

Thor knew Loki was lying - the man's lips were moving, were they not? Yet he could not determine which portion was the lie. They were still far enough from the camp to encourage honest replies from the slippery trickster. Thor continued to press.

"Then invading Midgard was your choice," he said, and Loki chuckled.

"Yes, Thor. I wanted to rule your precious world."

"You claimed you never wanted to rule."

They walked several steps, and finally Loki began to speak again.

"Thanos' greatest power, when not wearing the Gauntlet, is his insanity. It is a powerful force that infects all those near him. I thought myself shielded - I set guards within my helmet, and wore it at all times in his presence - but like a slow tide, the insanity rolled forward and began to leech into my thoughts."

"Then your thoughts were not your own?"

"My thoughts were my own, and his as well. Thus, where Thanos craved subjugation of Midgard, so did I."

Thor could not piece that logic together, and his brow furrowed in confusion. "That makes little sense to me, brother."

"Accept that your brother is gone, Thor," the trickster said quietly. "He died a relic of the past, and will not return."

"He stands at my side, and looks weary for his exertions. You will rest, will you not?"

"Will you cease asking should I say yes?"

"Perhaps."

"Then accept this lie: Yes, Thor. I will rest."

The camp was ahead, and Thor saw several shadows huddled around the bright-burning branch. His heart swelled when he recognized the silhouettes of Steve, Banner and the other Avengers - Loki paused and looked to him.

"Perhaps you should take the scepter now, to prevent a dreadful misunderstanding."

Thor ignored his concerns and cupped a hand around his mouth, bellowing ahead.

"Friends!" he declared, "we have returned!"

The figures turned as one to look in their direction. Steve positioned himself in front of the group, shield in hand - Banner stood toward the back, unassuming but ready - Barton and Natasha took up positions on either of Steve's sides, joined by Sif and Fandral. Volstagg hung back with Hogun, who remained seated.

Loki chuckled quietly, just loud enough for Thor to hear - and Thor thought of times gone by, when Loki would find amusement and share this with him alone. He would laugh in just this manner, then turn his head to speak to Thor, lowly enough that only his brother might hear -

"See how they fear me still, Thor? Even when their worlds are gone, they would fight for a cause."

Thor had been so lost in reminiscent musings that he had missed Loki turning and addressing him. The thunderer's heart clenched - another memory to keep to himself, lest he trigger Loki's incessant denials of kinship.

"They are cautious, Loki - you gave them much cause to distrust you." Thor raised the hand clenching the Tesseract. "Ho, friends!" he called.

"Mortimer has his hat," Tony said from below. Thor had missed the metalsmith initially, and now realized he was crouched next to Lynn Creed. "Why does he have his hat?"

"Loki," Steve said, "we don't have time for tricks. If you make us fight you, we will."

"And beat you down again, just like last time," Tony added. Loki smirked.

"I have no intention of fighting," he drawled. "Although if you are determined, Thor will likely humor your craving."

Thor could stand the heat in his hand no longer; he leaned down and set the Tesseract, bare and exposed, against the black ground. Bruce and Tony both approached while Steve clenched his jaw at sight of the thing; Barton and Natasha remained focused on Loki.

Sif looked at Thor, worry creasing her face.

"Hogun needs better care than we have here," she said. Loki scoffed.

"There is nowhere to take him to. Make do."

Sif scowled and began to reply, but Thor held up his burned hand to stop her. She stopped as commanded, then stepped forward and took his hand in hers.

"You need healing as well, Thor."

"I will heal soon enough. What of Hogun?"

Sif squeezed his hand before dropping it. Bruce spoke up. "He lost a considerable amount of blood, and he's dizzy. We don't have any food or water to help replenish what he's lost."

"There is no water in this realm," Loki said, "but food is abundant."

"I am _not_ eating a Shoggoth," Tony insisted. Thor did not know what manner of creature the inventor was referring to, and imagined that Loki did not either - yet the trickster remained quiet, and even laughed a bit as though he understood Tony's meaning - which, in turn, gave the appearance that the trickster _did_ know what Tony referred to. Thor wondered how much of Loki's intelligence emerged from simply knowing when not to say a word.

"Yggdrassil is more than capable of providing nourishment," Loki said as he reached and cut a tendril free. "There would be no parasites in this realm if it were otherwise."

"Parasites?" Tony asked. "Is that what keeps lurching around out there?"

"What kind of parasites?" Bruce asked.

Loki stepped close to the brightly burning fire and tossed the clipped branch within. The fire caught and blazed across the surface briefly before dulling to its original glow. "The beasts which inhabit this realm may be beyond your mortal comprehension."

"Look, H.P., you better give us something to work with," Tony said angrily.

"I cannot explain what you cannot conceive." The trickster stood next to the fire, watching the tendril burn. Natasha looked at Clint, who was watching the Æsir. Thor seemed unaffected by Loki's appearance, even accustomed to it. As for the others, there was no mistaking the drawn, taught faces of suspicion - and no small amount of surprise. Clint wondered what Loki's form might mean to them.

"Why are you blue?" Clint asked. "Is it related to the whole 'adopted' thing?"

Loki turned narrowed eyes to Barton. Instead of answering his question, the trickster next looked at Thor, and ire pulsed from his figure.

"Just who in this gathering have you _not_ informed?" Loki took a step back from the fire, then turned on his heel and began a slow path. He wove around the fire, then angled himself to pass close by every Avenger. "Your mortal friends - yes, you would have told them, to distance yourself from the bastard prince of Asgard. But the Æsir?" He stopped in front of Sif, whose nostrils flared as she tilted her chin up to meet his gaze.

"He did not warn a one of you, did he, Lady Sif?" Loki's voice was serene, even teasing. He stepped forward until they stood nearly touching. "And what does the lady warrior of Asgard think of the revelation now?"

"Back off," Steve said to him, and pulled Sif back. Her fists were clenched and her posture defensive; the last thing any of them needed was a brawl. Loki laughed at the two of them, still focused on Sif.

"You called me your king, once. Do you remember, Lady Sif? How you spat the words!"

"How long have you known?" she asked, ignoring the barb. Loki scoffed and turned away.

"Long enough," he snarled.

"Loki," she repeated, "when did you discover this?"

"It matters not," he replied. "I have always been the changeling prince, a Jötun bastard -"

"The attack on Jötunheimr," Thor said, "which led to my banishment."

"_Be silent,_" Loki hissed, and Thor ignored him. "Loki is no mere Jötun, my friends, but -"

"Still your tongue," Loki rasped, and the sound of guns cocking combined with pulse blasters charging rooted him in place - for the moment. "Speak no more of this irrelevance, it is -"

"- he is the son of Laufey himself."

Sif gasped and covered her mouth; behind her, both Fandral and Volstagg turned widened eyes to Loki, whose eyes burned with hatred as he glared at Thor.

"Cursed fool, why must you -"

A monstrous worm, brown and slick with thick black spines rolling along its back in segmented rows, slammed itself down amongst the group. Screams and yells erupted as the creature swayed from side to side, throwing Avengers and Æsir aside. Tony fired directly into what might be the beast's face - a sound like a roar echoed against the World Tree, and the worm reared backward, twisting itself and weaving its myriad of thick, bulging legs along the length of its body.

"Avoid the spines!" Loki called out. "Their poison will kill even an Æsir!"

Thor hefted Mjolnir and spun the handle in his palm.

"To arms, my friends!"

* * *

This place was pleasant, and warm, and far away from the things she didn't want to see or know. She could hear distant sounds: sometimes yells, sometimes a deep soothing voice - she ignored them, preferring to remain cocooned and safe in a warm haze of quiet darkness.

The yelling became louder, more persistent and harder to ignore. Lynn buried herself further into the cocoon and found herself followed by the noises echoing above. _Wake up_, they shouted. She huddled away. _Move her!_

She was jostled and lifted. The sounds were closer - no, they were everywhere. Reality rushed back in a sudden wave of sensations. Sounds. Tastes. Sensations.

Her arms ached. Why did her arms always ache?

She was settled away from the louder noises, still wrapped in a warm cocoon. _Stay here_, the voice she knew said. And then it was gone.

_Just let me stay away,_ she thought. But she was awake now, and her mind would not allow her to sink down again. It pushed her into the light - not literal light, no, but she could _hear -_

Lynn opened her eyes and _heard _–

* * *

"It was drawn by the Tesseract!" Loki's voice rang over the beast's roar as it reared back and flexed hundreds of hooked legs at the group. "A source of power while the Tree is dying, it will reverberate through this realm - they will all be drawn. Give me the cube, I will shield us all -"

"Like hell, H.P. -"

"Thor!"

The worm crashed forward in a surge aimed at Thor, who was confronting it directly with Steve at his side. Thor swung Mjolnir and connected with the side of the creature's head, while a solid two-fisted punch from a set of large green hands smashed into the creature's opposing side. Head and body twisted in opposite directions; the beast gargled and collapsed, twitches rolling along its body.

Steve brandished his shield and approached the head cautiously, Sif at his side. The twitches continued; the beast writhed and began to roll, twist and jerk, its dying throes more dangerous than the initial attack. Barton and Natasha stayed back out of reach; Fandral had dragged Hogun further away and was standing before his friend, defending him.

The worm contorted its body into spirals, flailing and throwing itself into different positions. It bashed itself against the portion of the World Tree where Lynn had previously sat, curling itself around the bark while thick slime oozed from its body.

"Sif," Steve said, and she nodded and extended her spear, approaching the poor creature to grant it a proper death.

Loki stood above the Tesseract, which was guarded over by a kneeling Tony, who had both palms faced toward the god's head.

"Try it," the inventor said. The Hulk approached behind him, snarling at the trickster. From the darkness, lurching shadows edged closer.

"There are more, you fools - I cannot shield us unless you let me -"

"Allow him through!" Thor bellowed and advanced, raising Mjolnir as though to strike the both of them. "He speaks the truth!"

Loki's grin bloomed in amused triumph. "Surely you do not think Thor a liar?"

"Plausible deniability," Tony said. Above them, branches creaked and swayed under great weights. Those branches closest to the group began to bend and bow.

"Fool of a mortal," Loki snarled, "how does your machine channel its power?"

"Like I'd -"

"Like closing a circuit." Banner's voice was calm and collected as he stepped forward. "We treat it like an outlet. We plug in, it lets power flow through."

"Loki," Thor called, "quickly!" The trickster dropped the scepter and held his hand out; the Tesseract shot forward into his blue palm. The hiss of burning flesh accompanied the scent of the same. Loki braced both palms against the Tesseract and reached deep into his depleted well of seiðr, drawing forth a thin thread of power. He spooled the thread outward, through his fingers and directly into the Tesseract's core. In a flash of light, the pure blue-white morphed into an emerald glow, Loki's seiðr fueling and combining with the infinite power within the cube - he felt himself pulled forward to join the will of the cube, felt its hunger striving outward to engulf all present - he pulled away from that endless flow of power, dropped the cube, spread his hands in a wide fan and draped the entire realm in his power.

The shadows and noises around them ceased as the shield fell into place, concealing them from the in-between - and vice-versa.

Loki lowered his hands, feeling more invigorated than he had in years. His mind felt sharp and clear rather than the muddled mess he had grown so accustomed to these many months past. He had not tapped into the Tesseract directly before - rather only funneled its energy through the staff, which lay at his feet now. He'd needed it before to lean upon, for his body was tired and worn - but he needed nothing any longer, his steps were sure and certain as he strode away from the metalsmith and the beast. Tony shot to his feet.

"Hey, what the hell -"

"Brother," Thor said, and reached to grip Loki's shoulder as he passed. The trickster paused and looked at Thor, who squeezed his shoulder in silent support.

"Loki, are you well?" Thor met his brother's fiery eyes; the trickster looked down upon himself. He raised his hands and turned them to see both sides of his Jötun palms.

"I am well," he replied, and his skin rippled into the pale flesh of an Æsir. He turned pale eyes to his brother, and Thor shifted his hand to the back of Loki's neck. He had not seen Loki, his brother, in so long.

"Welcome home, brother," Thor said. "I have missed you."

Loki turned to look at the Tree, glowing so dimly in the dying light of its own power. He could feel the energy leaving the roots and branches as surely as he felt his seiðr coursing through him. If the Tree died, the realm would collapse, and these few remaining denizens of the Nine would die along with the in-between.

"Brother," he said softly, so only Thor could hear, "I have a plan."


	27. Descent

_A fool must be allowed to make his own choices._

* * *

Clint had taken his place standing next to Natasha, guarding her from the beast attacking the makeshift campsite. He remained fixated on the threat, turning himself toward every noise until the worm was dead. Natasha's hand on his arm coaxed him into lowering the bow and arrow, which had veered toward Loki's exposed eye socket only seconds after the trickster god took up the Tesseract.

Barton glanced at Natasha as he lowered the bow, and she nodded and pulled him away. Together, they began a perimeter check which both distracted and calmed the assassins' nerves.

Thor took advantage of the moment of calm to attend to his Æsir companions, checking over Hogun's still-oozing wound and clenching Volstagg's arm in a show of solidarity and shared suffering. Sif, after a few moments of assuring herself that Hogun yet lived, took her leave of the group to follow his brother. Thor made no move to stop her.

After the shock of battle, they settled into their respective rhythms. Eating in their little groups, chewing at the tender cooked roots of Yggdrasil and each refusing to acknowledge the identity of their feast in his or her own way.

Through all of the distractions present, Tony was the first to notice that Lynn was no longer asleep, and knelt next to her with a stupid grin of punch-drunk joy.

"Hey kid," he drawled, "welcome back."

"Tony?" Lynn blinked her wide, blank eyes, then pushed herself to fully sitting up. "You're alive?"

"Your voice is hoarse. What happened?"

She ignored the question. "But your chest -"

"He took a bad hit, but he's fine." Bruce knelt on Lynn's other side and took her wrist to check her pulse. "How are you feeling?"

Tony gestured toward her throat, which Bruce prodded. Lynn flinched away from his touch, and he looked at Tony and wrapped one hand around his own throat, nodding slightly. Tony clenched his jaw while Bruce continued a more normal examination. Lynn was silent, letting Banner finish his inspection before saying in a low tone, "Earth..."

"Yeah," Tony said, and clenched his fists. "We know."

Lynn closed her eyes. "I saw it."

"How?" Banner asked. "Can you see now?" He waved two fingers in front of her eyes to check if they followed the motion.

"No...I don't know how."

"Well, he made Thor watch Asgard go down," Tony said. "Seems like ol' Patty Cake just likes sharing his toys."

"Asgard?" Lynn sounded thunderstruck; Bruce winced and shook his head at Tony, who ignored him.

"All the realms are gone, from how the Dark Lord tells it."

"Tony, that's enough," Bruce hissed. He fluttered a hand at Tony to try to drive him away while Lynn shook her head.

"Who's the Dark Lord?"

Tony snorted. "Who do ya think? Look, here comes ol' Bristlebritches now."

* * *

Loki stood at a distance from the group, pinching the individual segments of his fingers in a thorough inspection of the form he'd forced over his Jötun heritage. His nails were slightly longer, the swirls embedded into every pad of his fingers spiraling in different directions than before. He could feel that his Æsir skin was cooler to the touch than ever before. These small differences from the lie Odin first draped over him troubled the trickster, bringing about a fear that this form, like others he chose and discarded in time, was temporary. The Tesseract's energies still spiraled through his seiðr - that infinite power source which so vexed the humans and called upon Thanos from light years away - but Loki was not permanently bound to the blue energy. Each time he used his seiðr, the borrowed power dwindled that much more. He was expending a good deal of the Tesseract's power maintaining the blanket of protection over the entire group. Further sustaining this Æsir form carried a price. And yet he could not bring himself to abandon the form now that he had reclaimed it. He could not stand to look upon his own hands and see those Jötun markings trailing over his blue skin.

He heard the footsteps behind him and waited, allowing his visitor to approach at her leisure. She stopped several paces away.

"Guile does not suit you, my dear." Loki dropped his hands and turned to face her. "How may I be of service?"

Sif knew he was mocking her. He could see by the sudden tension in her eyes, the clenching of her fists. She wanted very badly to hit him, and likely only restrained herself because of the relative proximity of his older brother. So like old times. He nearly commented as much, when she broke the silence.

"I come to speak with a friend."

"You will find no friend here. There is only Loki."

The tension faded, and her eyebrows rose in surprise. It was an odd sort of ritual between them, spanning back centuries to a prank played on a golden-haired maiden. After that day, Sif vowed to deny him friendship in retribution. To humor her need for distance despite their mutual insistence on proximity to Thor, Loki began each conversation between just the two of them in the same manner: a denial of any sort of friendship on either side. With time and persistence, the words lost their sting and became more of a shared jest between two young Æsir who were scorned among polite society for taking on roles unsuited to their caste, be it as a woman or a prince of Asgard.

Loki had uttered the phrasing out of old habit, and cursed himself for even this small spark of familiarity. Sif, for her part, appeared emboldened by his reply, and spoke with a confident tone.

"How did you learn of your heritage?"

Loki raised both brows as he twisted his body to the side, angling himself so that she could only see one side of his face. "That is an odd question of an enemy."

"You are as much an enemy as I allow, and I grant you little space."

Loki laughed and shook his head at her folly. "You cater to the whims of a beast -"

"How did you learn of it?" she insisted. "Were you alone when you realized the truth?"

"Ah, the plan revealed." He smirked, facing away. "You seek out the cause for my actions, the catalyst to my downfall. Is it not enough that I took those actions of my own accord?"

"I seek the man I knew." Sif had advanced, and now stood less than three paces away. He could reach out and graze his knuckles against her face if he so chose. He scoffed.

"You are too like Thor - too willing to see that which you want to see, rather than that which is."

"Then brand me a fool as your brother - but you know me better." He would not admit she was right, and remained silent in quiet affirmation. "I see what is in front of me - that is all I have ever been able to see. I see you, Loki."

"Your gallant captain suspects treachery."

It was true - Steve was not trying to be subtle in his observation of their conversation. He kept them both in his sight, his shield ready to fly in an instant. He stood far enough to grant them privacy, but that was the greatest allowance he gave them.

Sif smiled at her friend's obvious protection and nodded. "He cannot help his nature. He wishes to protect me from the evils in this realm."

"Perhaps you would do well to explain to him that of the two of us, you are the better warrior."

"He knows as much." Loki raised his eyebrows and looked at her. Sif saw red flecks in his eyes. "He is not accustomed to standing aside."

"Your children will be magnificent - foolhardy and brave, throwing themselves into unnecessary conflicts -"

"You cannot bait me." The tension had come again; he could see the lie in the line of her shoulders.

"No, Lady Sif? And how will your gallant captain feel when you assume a man's place at the table? Will he support you, I wonder, when you go off to war in his stead?"

He thought he had her then. She heaved with temper - the air around her nearly crackled with unspent rages - and yet, through clenched teeth, she still managed to utter, "Have you forgotten that we are the same?"

Loki's temper finally snapped under the assertion. "We are _not_ the same," he rasped, "for I was _never_ an _Æsir_ -"

"I knew a man once," Sif interrupted, and he wanted to howl and scream his anger. "He was dubbed Liesmith for his tricks, as a tease to torment him. He decided to live and breathe his title, to embody the very concept of deceit. I thought this a strange retaliation - until I saw the results manifest. He became feared and respected for his ability to deceive. For his skills in negotiation, they dubbed him the Silvertongue.

"I believe he became unmoored when he discovered a terrible truth."

"The monster among the swine," Loki said with dark amusement.

"The thistle among the thorns, perhaps." He glanced sideways and saw Sif's humoring expression; his mood clouded, and he turned away.

"I thought you motivated by jealousy, or a craving for power. The need to overshadow your brother."

_I never wanted to rule,_ he thought. But he said nothing.

"I thought that man I once knew lost to the darkness - and yet, I wonder now, and I feel that it is so: he always knew exactly where he was, did he not?"

"Yes," he murmured, lying as easily as the snake glides upon the earth. "He always knew."

They stood together yet apart. Sif felt as though the chasm between them opened into a visible maw, howling with the despair of a past both gone and rejected by the man standing across the way. She might have wept if she were the type to drown in sorrows. Instead, she merely pressed a hand to her breast, in mourning of the former prince of Asgard.

She took her hand away and beckoned to him.

"Come, Loki," she said, and started away. "Your mortal pet has awakened."

* * *

Loki trailed behind Sif, who veered to check on Hogun while the trickster continued forward. Steve, seeing that Bruce and Tony - particularly Bruce - both stood guard over Lynn, went to meet Sif, while Natasha and Clint manifested from the darkness as soon as Loki was within any kind of range of the group.

The trickster couldn't contain a mocking smile. He spread his hands to show himself as no threat, which brought a pair of rolled eyes from Tony.

"Can it, H.P., you just got a shot of the juice straight from the source."

Loki did not understand the specific meaning of Tony's declaration, but he followed the context and responded accordingly.

"The Tesseract's power is temporary and dwindling. I will need to tap into its power once more to continue maintaining the protective shield."

Lynn visibly jerked at the sound of his voice, and he could not name the emotion he felt as he watched her shrink away. His fingers twitched.

"I mean you no harm, Amma Lynn," he said.

"You never do," she said, and both men at her sides turned angry eyes toward him. The trickster regretted bringing the lot of them to this place, and cursed Thor for his role in their presence here.

"Why don't you just leave her alone," Barton said from behind. The trickster refused to turn and grant the man formal audience; let the archer speak at his back, as deserved.

"The Queen of Asgard bade me to care for this mortal."

"She's dead."

Loki blinked, stunned at the archer's blunt statement despite knowing the archer's propensity for candor. He concealed his surprise with a glower over his shoulder. "That is of no consequence. I do keep my bargains."

"Not all of them," Natasha pointed out. The trickster smiled at her, showing his teeth.

"Patience, sweetling."

"If you're going to snipe," Bruce snapped, "do it somewhere else."

"Amma Lynn," Loki asked, staring down at the small form huddled under the blanket, "may I touch you?"

The Avengers gathered close by sucked in a collective breath - save for Tony, who stood and placed himself directly between the trickster and the young girl.

"Look, there's _no way -_"

"Why?" Lynn asked. Tony, never one to let someone else's free will override his own, held a finger up to tell Loki to _shut his mouth_.

"Not a word, you're not getting anywhere near -"

"I believe that is Amma Lynn's choice," Loki said with raised eyebrows. Tony raised both open palms and charged the blasts.

"Just say the word, kid, and I'll get rid of him for ya."

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. "Tony -"

"Why?" Lynn repeated. She reached up to rub her throat. Loki watched how delicately she touched her own flesh, how careful she was not to apply pressure.

"I can heal you," he said, and she blinked at his declaration.

"Like my hand?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Alright."

"Lynn, you don't have to let him anywhere near you," Bruce said to her. He shifted his weight so that he leaned over her, offering yet another protective shield between the trickster and his target.

"I know," she said with a small smile. "But you're all here."

It was a solid argument, not that this mattered to Tony. He was prepared to guard her until the trickster backed away. Bruce reached out and tugged at his pants leg, drawing the inventor's gaze downward. Bruce shook his head and waved him aside. Tony, keeping both hands up and ready, stepped aside.

"You try anything, even one damn thing, H.P."

"Of course," the trickster replied, and he couldn't quite keep the sneer from his voice as he lowered himself to one knee next to Lynn. "I tremble with fear."

Tony stood directly over him, ready to attack. Bruce hovered at his side, refusing to lean away - there would be no forgetting the beast's presence. Without seeing either assassin, Loki knew that both had some form of weapon aimed squarely at the back of his head.

The trickster never felt so powerful as when he was feared, and the surrounding wariness fed into his need for respect.

"Remain still, and do not argue," he said to Lynn. His hand draped over her shoulder. He tweaked and tugged inside of her, nudging the tether aside to discover what lay beneath. He pierced the bubble of unfamiliar magic, in the same manner as lancing a festering wound, and drained the energy directly into his seiðr. He became a conduit for the power there, allowing it to enter through his hand and course directly into the pathways weaving through his aura.

He fed the energy into his Æsir form and fixed it into his skin, pushing away the last vestiges of Jötunheimr. He looked down at his hands and saw the familiar swirls along his fingers – relief, combined with the sudden influx of power, made him dizzy.

He looked up into Lynn's face, and saw her looking back at him.

"I can see," she whispered. Loki paused and met her eyes, truly met them for the first time. She stared at him, at the tired, drawn lines creasing around his lids, at the downward turn of his mouth. Loki drew his hand away from her shoulder, and she continued to watch him. Banner swooped in to begin checking her eyes, murmuring quiet directions as he double- and triple-verified that she was following his fingers and could count the numbers easily. He cupped a hand over both eyes to ensure that her pupils responded to the absence of light.

"Holy shit," Barton said from behind. Loki rose to his feet and tugged at either sleeve, straightening his appearance. "You fixed her."

"Her blindness made her a hindrance," the trickster said.

"Could you have done it before?" Natasha asked. Tony gripped Lynn's shoulder and shook her slightly, the same grin as before splayed across his face.

"Hey, kid, how's the view?"

"Tall." Lynn looked around herself, then started trying to get up and found her legs tangled in the blanket. Bruce helped her pull her feet free before she started to stand.

"Brother," Thor called across the way, "it worked!"

"So it did," the trickster murmured.

"Now we're in business," Tony proclaimed. Thor and the others, sans Hogun and Fandral, approached the group. Steve looked at Lynn, who stood swaying slightly on her feet.

"Lynn, are you with us?" He stepped forward and reached to catch her arm and steady her, then paused when she looked directly at him.

"You're wearing a giant American flag," she said. Steve flushed in embarrassment, but stayed on task.

"That's the uniform. You can see now?" She nodded, then stepped forward and pressed her side against his. In another moment she sighed. Her shoulder barely met his elbow.

"Why is everyone so _tall._"

"You're just fun-sized," Tony said. He clapped her on the back, then tried to ruffle her hair and nearly tangled his fingers in her curls. She waved his hands away.

Steve looked at Bruce. "Hogun's not doing well. He's having trouble staying awake."

"Did he eat at all?" Bruce got to his feet with a slight grunt of effort.

"Only a little, and that with great effort," Sif said. "I fear his strength will continue to wane as the hours pass."

"What happened to Hogun?" Lynn asked. Tony and Bruce exchanged a look, which rippled through the others until Barton answered with his usual bluntness.

"His arm got flayed by a Chitauri. He's lucky he still has one."

Lynn blinked and swallowed thickly. "Sorry I asked."

"We can't stay here until the Tree dies," Steve said, before the conversation could veer further away. "What's our goal?"

"To fix it," Tony replied, and they all turned various versions of disbelieving stares to him. "What? That's what we all want, right? That's our goal. Patty Cake unmade everything, now we'll remake it."

"You're handling this well," Barton noted.

"Because Bristlebritches has a plan. Don't you?" Tony looked straight at Loki, who raised his eyebrows at the comment. "Yeah, I thought so."

"I do not intend to involve the lot of you," the trickster said. He carefully avoided looking directly at Lynn while he spoke - an easy feat, due to his greater height. "Timing is crucial - the World Tree withers around us. We cannot wait any longer."

"So you're just going to leave us here?" Tony laughed. "Not a chance."

"You hardly have a choice -"

"There's always a choice," Lynn said. Loki could not avoid looking at her then - she kept narrowed, angry eyes on him. He looked away.

"Thor and I must make haste. Every moment we await your mortal failings is another wasted opportunity."

"There has to be some way we can help," Steve insisted. "You can't ask us to just sit here. He took everything from us, too."

"Yeah," Bruce said quietly. "We all had someone we cared about on that rock."

Natasha and Barton looked to each other while Lynn took the moment to look up at the World Tree and marvel at its glory.

"There is no arrangement for a bumbling mortal team. You cannot attend." Loki was beginning to feel his temper fray once more. These mortals were so _difficult_ -

"And what of us, Loki?" Sif raised a fist. "You would abandon us as well, with no guarantee of your return?"

"The plan is risky and wrought with peril," Thor said, sparing Loki the indignity of raising his voice to a woman. "If we do not return, this is all for naught."

"So you're leaving us here to rot," Tony said. "That's a great plan."

"Is there any way to save the Tree?" Lynn's small voice drew their attention to the side, where she had reached out and wrapped her hand in one of the dimly glowing roots. "There must be some way to save it."

"The World Tree feeds on the life force of worlds," Loki said, not without condescension. "Without a world to feed upon, the Tree has turned its appetite upon itself. It consumes itself even now, and will perish within a day."

"Like pulling a plant from the ground," she said, and grazed the root with the pads of her fingers. "It takes a while to wilt."

"The Tree feeds on energy, right?" Bruce pointed toward a patch of blue light in the distance. "Can it feed off the Tesseract?"

"The Tree lacks the will to draw upon the Tesseract's energies," Loki said, "and I will need it in order to defeat Thanos." When the assembled gave him suspicious glares, the trickster added, "and if I release it to the Tree, the shield I have woven will fail and expose you once more to the creatures of this realm."

"You are _not_ leaving us here with nothing to do," Tony said. Lynn suddenly turned to face Loki.

"What kind of worlds?"

He took in her sudden intensity. "What do you mean?"

"The Tree - it needs what? The energy of living things?"

"Yes." Loki answered slowly, cautiously, unsure of where the mortal meant to guide this thought of hers.

"Can you hook it up to a person?"

Loki straightened and turned to fully face her. "Out of the question. You would die within moments - you cannot possibly sustain Yggdrasil. It needs more than the life of one mere mortal girl."

"Not the entire thing - how about little bits? Like clippings, to grow it back stronger." She tugged at the root around her hand. "I can't speak for you god types, but humans, we're full of things. We're little worlds. We have _millions_ of living things all over us, inside us - we're called micro_biomes_. Dr. Banner, tell him!"

"Ah - it's true," Bruce stuttered, surprised to be suddenly included in the discussion.

"If we can keep little pieces alive, does that buy you more time than a day?" She was intense and focused, suddenly capable. None of them knew what to do with this young woman and her sudden assertiveness.

"Aye," Loki finally said, and his voice was slow and hesitant. "That might grant enough time to perfect the illusion."

"What illusion?" Natasha asked.

"My brother will create a mirage of Thanos' lover, the lady Death," Thor said.

"Death is a woman?" Tony raised his eyebrows. "Doesn't that figure."

"You can make a hologram?" Bruce asked. "How strong will it be?"

"With the Tesseract, as strong as needed."

"Loki will expend a great deal of his strength maintaining the illusion," Thor said. "We will need to move quickly."

Natasha tilted her head. "Is it easier to use something else as a base for the illusion?"

Thor raised his eyebrows, and turned to look at Loki, who narrowed his eyes.

"Yes," he said sharply, "though I have no intention -"

"You tell me what to say, I'll say it." Natasha crossed her arms and tilted her chin up; behind her, Tony, Bruce and Barton took small steps back. "I can lie better than a fake."

Loki could hardly argue with her.

"Alright," Steve said, "Tony, Clint and I on World Tree. We each keep a small piece alive. Bruce, you stay unhooked in case something else attacks us. Sif?"

"The Æsir will join in your duty."

"Good." Steve pointed at Natasha and Thor. "You're both with Loki."

"Amma Lynn will not be 'hooked' to the Tree," Loki said, and Lynn bristled with anger.

"That is not your decision -"

"No, it's mine." Bruce raised his hands when she spun to face him. "Another set of eyes will help me, and you're still recovering. Hogun won't be hooked in either."

Lynn nodded, visibly tense with anger.

"You're all fools," Loki snarled, and stalked from the group to prevent himself from further unseemly displays. Thor waited a moment, then turned to follow him. The two brothers walked side by side for several long minutes, never straying too far from the group.

"These humans are meddlesome," the trickster said. He was displeased with this turn of events, and the need to incorporate so many variables into a simple, streamlined trick.

"Aye," Thor agreed, "their courage is pure."

Loki had no response to that statement which would not lead to a loud, and possibly physical, disagreement.


	28. Push

With Loki's protective shield, the only sounds in the realm were the Avengers and the Æsir. Mutterings echoed along the black ground, and the slightest rustle of clothing drew the attention of everyone present.

It was taking a while to adjust.

There was no accounting for the beauty of the World Tree. Lynn could hardly stand the intricate root system, and she spent several minutes tracing the weaving branches up and up into the distance.

She heard footsteps behind her, and gripped the green cloak tightly against her shoulders. A hand gripped her shoulder, and her muscles squeezed with tension.

"Did JARVIS lose power?"

The tension faded.

"No," she said, turning to Tony. "But he was close. I miss him."

"I know the feeling," Tony replied, and rubbed a hand against his chest.

"He really helped me. He's...kind of sweet."

"Don't get a crush on my A.I.," the inventor said with a smirk. "I'm not building you a sexbot."

Lynn laughed and shuddered. "Grow up."

He glanced at her, a brief look full of painful remembrance, and she took her turn to grip his shoulder. She bit her bottom lip, trying to think of something kind to say, and found herself at a loss.

"We'll get'er back," he said. She nodded. "Anyone you thinking about?"

"Is that a come-on?" she joked, lightly. He grinned.

"Sorry kid, I'm taken."

"There's a family I'm close to," she said, and tried to keep her memories of Mr. Turner limited to the real man. "They were always nice to me."

"The Turners? You stayed with them two years, right?" At her look, he added, "I read your file."

"Everyone read my file," she grumbled. He laughed.

"Most of us are orphans," he said. "Thundercloud's the only one with a family, and you see how well that's going for him."

She looked back at Thor, who stood next to Loki and spoke in low tones that rumbled across the air. "Seems to be going alright."

"Yeah?" Tony wiggled his fingers. "Guy's too slippery."

"Thor's too nice," she said darkly. Tony raised his eyebrows.

"Brrr."

"Sorry," Lynn said, "I might be bitter."

"Hey, he threw me out a window." Tony rubbed the back of his neck. "No argument here."

She started to ask, and decided against it. "Thanks for coming for me."

"Whatever. Where's JARVIS?"

Lynn shuffled her elbow, pointing forward toward Loki.

"Ugh," Tony said. She laughed and shook her head, reaching for a pendant that wasn't around her neck. When her fingers closed on air, she sighed.

"The charm looked like something from Asgard."

Tony blinked at her in surprise. "Yeah. How'd you know that?"

"They thought Loki gave it to me." She didn't tell him that she'd been specifically told it looked like an Asgardian trinket. Anything that made her look smarter than she was helped her feel more confident in the presence of a literal genius.

"They thought…" Tony sounded angry. "Why did that even come up?"

"They thought it made me a target," she said as she watched part of the group break away and begin approaching. "To him," she added as Steve, Sif and Clint stepped into the conversation.

"Miss Creed," Steve said as he looked her over, "how are you doing?" Lynn stared at him until the tips of his ears started to turn red. "Sorry - it's just -"

"Didn't want to assume," Clint said. Lynn nodded and tried to mimic his no-nonsense style.

"Everything hurts, but I'll be ok."

"Your throat?" Barton wasn't trying for subtlety. He stared straight at her neck, and she swallowed a thick lump. Tony pressed a reassuring hand to her back. She blinked rapidly.

"I'm fine," she said, and both men grunted in shared exasperation. Steve looked like he was planning a new strategy. Sif turned and called over her shoulder, "Natasha! To me!"

"More Indigo Girls?" Tony asked, and winked at Lynn. She found his face open and friendly, and wondered how much of that was an act. She looked at Clint, who raised his eyebrows and nodded slightly. Natasha stepped into the group, and the men drew away.

"We'll leave you ladies to it," Tony said, and Clint led him toward Steve and Fandral. Sif sighed while Lynn took the opportunity to really inspect her face - and Natasha's.

"You don't look like I thought you did," she said. Natasha raised her eyebrows while Sif smiled.

"I hope the reality is not so disappointing," the Æsir said. Lynn lowered her eyes and felt shame begin to burn in her cheeks.

"I tried to fight. I did." She curled her toes inward, scraping her toenails against the bottom of Loki's boots. She thought of Naglfar and wondered if Sif knew the story. Had Loki made it up? Why?

She couldn't look at either of them. Natasha crossed her arms, and Sif rested her hands at her sides. They remained silent, together, and Lynn began to burn with guilt.

"I tried," she whispered. She felt tears welling and wiped at her eyes in desperation. "I'm sorry, I did try -"

"Stop." Sif sounded angry, and Lynn wilted under her displeasure. She sucked air through her clogged nose, fighting the sobs back, and waited for them to scold her for her failure.

Natasha moved her hand through Lynn's line of vision before clasping her shoulder in a tight grip. "We're not upset with you, Lynn."

"You are far from the first to fall victim to Loki's schemes."

Lynn flinched. "He got what he wanted, anyway."

Natasha squeezed her shoulder. "What was that?"

"My eyes," Lynn said, and waved a hand at herself. "He wanted to figure out how to undo the magic."

Sif creased her brow. "That was his purpose in keeping you?"

Lynn nodded. Natasha offered a roasted cutting, and she took the food to chew quietly. It tasted like yams in need of flavoring. Natasha looked at Sif.

"Why would he need Lynn for that?"

''I am not sure. Seiðr was ever Loki's strength, such that we warriors needed not concern ourselves with its workings, Loki's mastery was so complete.''

''So you never bothered to learn because you had an expert on the team,'' Natasha said. Her tone was not unkind.

''Yes, Lady Natasha,'' Sif said. ''Betrayal is a new trick for him.''

''Practice makes perfect,'' Lynn muttered. Both women pursed their lips in sympathy.

''Still,'' Sif added after a moment, ''he has granted you a generous boon.''

''What?'' Lynn asked. Natasha's hand tightened on her shoulder.

''He has returned your sight.'' Sif's stare was unwavering. ''You are in his debt.''

''You can't be serious.'' Lynn was shaking.

''Loki's not a good person,'' Natasha said, ''but he did you a favor.''

Lynn yanked her shoulder away. ''He wouldn't have needed to if he hadn't dragged me there,'' she said with a raised voice.

''He's right,'' Clint said from the side. Tony, Steve and Clint had all turned at Lynn's near-yell. ''You were a liability blind.''

Lynn's throat was thick and clogged; she felt chains around her wrists. She swallowed and rubbed her neck. They all stood watching her, waiting for the final spark.

''He was a god to your people once,'' Sif said quietly. ''A god he remains.''

''You're saying I'm in debt to him,'' Lynn whispered. Her arms ached in protest.

''Lest you forsake your honor,'' Sif said. Lynn stared at the lot of them, meeting each set of eyes as she looked for the trick. When she met Tony's, filled with sharp frustration, she finally understood.

Lynn threw the cloak to the black ground, abandoning its warmth. She turned and stalked toward Loki, who still stood conversing with Thor, and inserted herself into their dialogue with all the subtlety of a fox in a hen house.

''Loki,'' she yelled, ''take it back!''

Both trickster and thunderer turned to regard the small human, who barely met their elbows in height. Loki composed himself first, and a scowl was her reply.

''You forget your place, mortal.''

''Brother,'' Thor said, ''at ease. Lynn, what is the manner of your quarrel?''

Lynn ignored him, keeping her attention and anger focused exclusively on the trickster. ''Take it back,'' she repeated, ''whatever you did. I don't want it.''

Thor's confusion was plain upon his face, just as Loki's anger was on his. ''You are naught but a hindrance without your sight, woman, barely worth the root in your hand.''

''Loki,'' Thor began uneasily, but Lynn beat him to the scold by flinging the roasted tendril into the trickster's face.

''I'd rather be dead than owe you anything!'' Her voice would've been a shrill yell, save for the bruising. Her injury caused her tone to sputter and hiss, dampening her volume yet making her sound all the more furious. ''You understand? _Dead_! I'd rather _die_!''

''A fate easily arranged,'' the trickster rasped. ''I warned you once not to become a burden. The warning stands, Amma Lynn.''

''Or you'll kill me?'' she asked, and Thor straightened his posture. ''Say it, if you're so sure. Say you'll kill me.''

''Desist!'' Thor bellowed, and Loki clenched his jaw to prevent his retort. It was lucky that Thor chose this moment to intervene. Loki had lost what little patience he had with these mortals and their unreasonable actions, and his next reply might have dissolved into violence before he finished the thought.

''I will not remove your sight,'' he said instead, ''nor should you desire me to. Your Doctor Banner stated that he will need the assistance of eyes, and he shall have them.''

''Stay the hell away from me,'' she said, and she pointed for emphasis. ''Stay away. If you come near me, I'll scream.'' And she turned her back on him and walked away, walked until she reached the end of the encampment and could scream her anger and frustration and fear into the black distance.

It was Tony who stepped up beside her, staring ahead and waiting until she glanced at him before speaking.

''Feel a little better for it?''

Lynn laughed bitterly. ''Was it Natasha or Clint who came up with the plan?''

''It was me,'' he said. ''More recent experience. I didn't feel better until I killed every last bastard who held me in that cave.'' He stared into the black distance, his eyes cloudy with rage. ''I didn't get all of them myself. I've always regretted that.''

''I can't kill him,'' she said in a flat, defeated tone. ''I don't think I could kill anyone.''

''We need people like you,'' Tony said, ''to remind us of what we're fighting for.''

''Naive and weak?'' She tried to make her tone joking and light. Her voice cracked too much to sell the lie.

''Normal,'' he said, and she looked at him with raised eyebrows. ''Normal, and good, and everything that's worth protecting.''

''I want to go home,'' Lynn whispered, and hugged herself against the chill.

''C'mon, kid,'' Tony said, and gently led her by the shoulders back toward the group. ''Let's get you home.''

* * *

Dealing with moral warriors of justice was exhausting. Talking with Steve, Thor or any of the Æsir reminded Barton of a time long ago, when the circus which raised him tried to discover his talents. They started him on juggling. A patient older man with kind eyes sat with him for a full month, trying to explain how to fling the various items in a way to control the movement and predict where they would land.

The miserable failure taught the archer one unalterable truth about himself: Clint Barton did not juggle. He couldn't juggle objects, and he certainly couldn't juggle people. He was too honest, too upfront, and not nearly concerned enough with how his message would be taken.

Clint's nerves were thrumming with tension and unspent energy. Loki's plan perturbed him. He didn't like knowing that he was, in essence, following the orders of the man he'd sworn never to follow again.

It helped that Cap gave the actual command, and that he knew that this plan might save the entire known universe, as Bruce put it.

It didn't help enough.

Clint was not a good person. Sometimes he wondered if Natasha was the only one who truly grasped that fact. If remaining free of any type of Loki's influence meant damning every world to eternal oblivion, they were all lucky that Clint wasn't the one to make the final call.

He was carrying a roasted root which Tony had barely taken a bite of before rejecting. The inventor wasn't one to trust, but the only hope of gaining back Earth - and Pepper with it - was to go along with the plan and make nice.

"But," he'd said to Barton as he made a face and offered the root back, "that doesn't mean I have to eat this shit."

Barton had already eaten, as had the rest of them. All except Loki, who had demanded that Thor leave him be while he brooded. Clint approached the trickster now with the root, and ignored the prickle in his spine.

Loki raised both eyebrows and watched his advance. When Clint was close enough, he extended his hand and held the root at arm's length. The trickster, after a moment, reached to take the offering.

"This grows tiresome," he said, and inspected the tendril for signs of foul play. "You have played your ace, as you mortals say, and your threat no longer concerns me. What business do you have, then, to approach me with this morsel?"

"Thought you could use a friend." The trickster jolted and narrowed his eyes at the archer, who was looking away at the Tree. Barton shrugged impassively, keeping his eyes averted.

"Or not," he said. "It's up to you."

"I had a brother, once," the trickster said, as though the phrase explained all without the need for further clarification. "I found that I did not need him, and I certainly do not need you. I am injured in neither body nor pride." When Clint looked back, the root was gone, vanished to the same place as the other meals. Loki wasn't telling them something. He knew it just as well as he knew his own name. But Loki was right: Clint had nothing to hold over him anymore. He couldn't force the trickster's hand.

And he wasn't here to ask, anyway.

"Natasha's going with you," the archer said, and he stared Loki square in the eye. "Don't hurt her."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Loki said, and he couldn't keep the amusement from his tone. _I do as I please_, Clint heard. _And you are helpless to stop me_.

"Don't hurt her," Clint repeated. He didn't add anything else; adding more words to a command just jumbled up the message.

"I will not lay a hand on her," Loki said after a while. "On this, you have my pledge."

"Is that worth anything?"

Loki smiled. "I suppose you are relegated to trusting me, Agent Barton."

_Tell me what you need_, he'd said. Barton told him, and Loki supplied. It couldn't be the other way around.

"Alright," Clint said, and that was the end of it. They stood in mutual peace, a temporary reprieve from adversity. Loki reached into the ether and pulled forth the tendril, which he offered back to Barton. The archer accepted the olive branch without comment. It was Loki who broke the silence first.

"Why do you persist, when even Thor's faith wanes?" Loki sounded merely curious, interested in the motivations of the specimen before him.

"I had a brother once," Clint said, and chewed on the root.

* * *

Thor had taken a place between Steve and Tony, looking down on Dr. Banner who sat on the floor to rest his legs. Tony and Steve were watching the women while Bruce picked at his nails. Fandral stood close enough to listen to the men while keeping an eye on Hogun's progress. Even with Volstagg in constant attendance, the Æsir's strength and consciousness wavered more with every passing hour.

"Now will he leave her alone?" Tony asked, and Fandral scoffed.

"Nay," Thor said, and Tony stared at him. Thor gave him a sad smile while Steve asked, "why?"

"The Queen's command is not to be ignored lightly." He raised a hand to halt their protests. "In death her bidding is strengthened."

"For how long?" Bruce asked.

"Until Loki feels the debt is repaid."

"What debt," Tony started, and Bruce made a strange, strangled noise in his throat. "What? What is it?"

"His debt to who?" Bruce asked. Thor looked grim.

"The Queen." He looked between the men. "The Queen requested that he care for her. In failing his duty, he caused the demise of the Nine."

Tony's ears were ringing. "She's not his project. She's not! He can find another charity case -"

"No," Bruce said gently. "He can't."

"Are you asking me to deal with it?"

"Taking care of her is the last request his mother made to him," Bruce said. "He won't let that go."

"You're asking me to dance."

"Stark," Steve snapped, and the inventor looked at him with wide eyes. "Think. Is there another way?"

Tony opened his mouth, then closed it and creased his brow. Steve pushed a little further.

"Any other way," he said, "anything at all. Some way to avoid counting on Loki."

"No." Tony's voice was strained with resentment.

"Keep thinking," Steve said. "If you and Bruce can find a way, I'd like to hear it."

"You don't trust him?" Bruce asked.

"Do you?" Steve directed this to Thor, who had crossed his arms over his chest.

"Loki believes this plan is the only way - I am not of the mind to argue. However, I could not say if this were truly the sole path open to us."

"We don't have long," Steve said to Tony. "If you're going to think up a plan, you need to do it quick."

"I'm not the only genius," Stark said. "Bruce! Any thoughts?"

"I want to get Betty back." Tony flinched as Bruce continued. "You've got Pepper, and Thor has Jane. Steve has…"

"Peggy," Steve said quietly.

"Peggy," Bruce finished. "We all have someone we're doing this for."

Volstagg stepped into the group, his face worried. "Hogun will not rouse. I fear he has lost consciousness."

"I'm sorry," Steve said. Volstagg nodded at him.

"Is there reason to dither?" the large Æsir asked of them, and the men looked to Tony, who shook his head. Thor nodded.

"Very well," the thunderer said, and pitched his voice. "Brother! It is time."

* * *

Loki stood with his dagger, clutching a small bough, and hacked at the joint. The limb came free after the fourth slice. The trickster stepped away from Yggdrasil and turned to the assembled.

"It will enter through your heart," he said, and allotted a sidelong smile for Barton. "Your heart will serve as its nourishment."

"How long will it buy you?" Bruce asked.

"A mortal might withstand a day while sustaining Yggdrasil's cuttings," Loki said. "Your bodies are too fragile for more."

"How long do you need?" Steve asked.

Loki considered him for a moment before answering, "Half a day."

"Do better," the captain said, and Tony stepped forward.

"Sounds like a barrel of laughs," Tony said. He tapped the center of his chest. "Right here, Bristlebritches. Let's see if this stick does better than yours."

"Are you not concerned for pain?" the trickster asked. Tony shrugged.

"Can't be much worse than the arc."

"Tony," Steve began, and Tony scoffed.

"If he kills me, avenge me," the inventor said.

"Avert your eyes, beast," Loki said to Bruce, and pressed the dying branch against Tony's chest. Tony jolted and gurgled, falling to his knees immediately as the branch sprouted roots and plunged them deep inside of his flesh to access the beating heart within. He doubled over, clutching his chest around the rooted branch, and wheezed in pain.

"Hnurgh," Tony said, and twitched from the ground.

"It is not a pleasant experience," Loki agreed.

"Tony," Lynn said, and knelt next to him. "Tony! Can you hear me?"

"Nruaag."

Lynn looked up at Loki, who was cutting another branch free. "Loki, give me JARVIS."

The trickster paused and turned to regard her.

"Now," she added, and tilted her chin in a show of defiance. The trickster was inclined to laugh, save for the audience now watching the exchange.

"Very well," he said instead, and produced the charm and earpiece she'd worn. She snatched them away from him without asking for the rest, and knelt next to Tony again.

"Here, Tony," she whispered, and slid the earpiece into his ear. "It's a friend."

When the buzzing started in his right ear, the strain on the inventor's face lessened only a little, but Lynn felt relief all the same.

"Get back to it," she said, and they did. Loki continued cutting and setting the branches inside of a willing host. The Æsir did not collapse immediately, as Clint also did, although Sif glared daggers at Loki before the branch overwhelmed her senses. Steve was the last to join, and looked at Natasha once before nodding and allowing Loki to place a cutting against his chest. He, too, did not collapse - instead he looked confused a moment, before turning ghastly pale and staggering back a step. The branch, feeling the ever-renewing energy of this new source, sucked greedily of his life before he, too, fell to the ground.

In the end, they all laid prone and insensate, overcome with their respective saplings. Natasha knelt next to Clint, checking his vital signs for any changes, while Bruce looked over the rest.

"They seem OK," Bruce said hesitantly, as the sight of a tree growing straight out of a person's chest rarely meant imminent survival. "I'll monitor them for any signs of change."

"Hogun is here, with me," Lynn said, and pulled the man's head into her lap where she sat. "Maybe I can get him to wake up."

Bruce, Thor and Natasha exchanged a look and mutually decided, without words, to let the young woman believe.

"There is only Mjolnir left, and the illusion itself," Loki said. He sheathed his dagger rather than send it away, letting the weapon rest against his hip. "We will go to the Chitauri world one last time, to see this through."

"What about Mjolnir?" Natasha asked. Thor answered.

"He will link the power of the Tesseract directly into the hammer, that she might destroy Thanos in a single blow."

"She?" Lynn asked. "Mjolnir's a girl?"

"Makes sense," Bruce said, and winked at both women. The light-hearted moment passed.

"Good luck," Lynn said, trying hard to avoid meeting Loki's eyes.

"Thanks," Natasha replied, and hugged the younger woman around the shoulders.

"I will send you both, and then follow in turn. You will be shielded from sight and sound." Loki approached the Tesseract, which still lay where Thor abandoned it hours before. "This will sustain the gateway until we are through."

"Why do you come last, brother?" Thor asked. The trickster shook his head, a wary smile on his face as he took up the Tesseract. He pressed the pads of his fingers against either side, using himself to close the pathway and allow the raw power to funnel into his seiðr.

"You forget, Thor - Thanos can sense my presence within the realms. Our timing is crucial."

"I'll watch Clint," Lynn said to Natasha, who nodded. The trickster met Lynn's eyes, briefly, and then focused on the task of opening the path once more.

"It is open," he said, and pointed straight ahead. "Through there, and quickly. Haste guides us now."

Thor and Natasha stepped into the nothing and vanished from sight, leaving Loki with Lynn, Bruce and the remaining unconscious group. Loki turned from the portal and scrutinized the group left behind, his eyes glossy as he did so. Lynn tilted her head slightly and began to rise, gently setting Hogun's head aside.

"What are you doing?" she asked, and fear made her voice crack.

"How fortunate," Loki said, "that there are nine of you."

It took Lynn too long to understand that remark, but Bruce shot to his feet in an instant and pushed her behind him, toward the group.

"You just stay the hell back," Bruce said, fists clenched. "Don't make me do -"

"Anything rash?" The trickster laughed and circled to the side, hands raised. "You presume much, mortal."

"I presume you're an asshole," Bruce snapped. Lynn jerked at the statement and looked between the two men.

"_What_ is going on -"

"Tsk, Amma Lynn. You are normally so clever." Loki reached for a thick branch and broke it free of Yggdrasil with his bare hands, rejuvenated by the Tesseract's power and no longer in need of his dagger for the task.

"Loki," Bruce said, raising his hands in an attempt to calm the situation, "just hang on. Whatever you're going to do is not going to work out the way you think it will."

"There is no certainty in life," the trickster said, "and less with a trickster god. Is that not right, Amma Lynn?"

The Nine. Thor and the other Æsir always called the worlds the Nine. Lynn looked at her friends, all fallen and helpless, and suddenly understood.

"It won't work," she said, throwing herself behind Bruce's statement. "It can't. Just one of us to build a whole realm? It can't possibly work."

"Ah, but you set the terms yourself. Each of you, a world unto yourselves - full of the tiny creatures which birthed you." Loki grinned widely enough to show his teeth. "A brilliant plan for a desperate time."

"No!" Lynn screamed, seeing where Loki was headed with the branch, and started to run forward. Bruce grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

He had circled next to Hogun, who remained unconscious and still at his feet. Loki knelt and jabbed the ragged edge of the branch deep into the Æsir's chest; Hogun's eyes sprung open and he cried out in pain, his back arching with the sudden invasion.

His eyes roved the air as unconsciousness began to take hold once more, and he saw Loki smiling down at him tenderly.

"Farewell, the Grim. Remember my face." The Æsir shuddered and grasped at his waist where his weapons would rest to find nothing - in another moment, the darkness took him.

"Hogun!" Lynn tried to push past Bruce, who continued to hold her behind him. "Bruce, let me -"

"She will not be restrained, Doctor Banner," Loki said as he neared them. "Although you seem to be doing an admirable job of it."

"It's all in the approach," Bruce said, turning to keep himself between Loki and Lynn. "Stop, Loki - you know where this ends."

"Indeed," the trickster said, and lunged forward with dagger drawn.

Lynn dove to the side, knowing that Bruce was more than capable of defending himself. She did not stop moving once out of the way, nor did she run into the large black space - where could she escape to? Instead, she veered herself straight for the portal, running at the same spot where Natasha and Thor had vanished only moments ago.

She ran, and ran, and found herself still running long after the point where both Avengers disappeared. Behind her, she could hear Bruce's monstrous roar, and turned to see the Hulk swipe a massive fist at Loki's head.

The trickster shimmered, and was suddenly gone - and then he was back, behind Bruce and holding a sheared root of Yggdrasil itself, still attached to the tree, not a cutting - and as the Hulk turned to catch him, he plunged the root deep into the beast's chest. There was a roar, and a flare - a bright, shining light which lit the black darkness until every corner of the realm could be seen. The roar of fury morphed into a howl of agony as Bruce desperately tore at the roots shooting through him, around him, from his mouth and into his pounding heart.

Banner collapsed to his knees, convulsing in time with the Tree's own pulses of energy as it drew upon his endless strength.

Loki leaned slightly - for on his knees the Hulk was barely shorter than the god - and spoke into the creature's ear with a dark, victorious glee.

"Know you are small." he murmured to the green beast, swelling with the satisfaction of vengeance. "Know you are weak." He straightened, and tugged at his sleeves to straighten them.

Lynn ran into the darkness.

* * *

Thor stepped from the in-between into a cell he barely recalled, yet recognized all the same. There were no bars nor chains here, yet an iron cage rested against the wall, burning the inhabitant's skin away anywhere her skin was unprotected. A Vanir he recognized lay further away, bound directly to the floor.

Thor stepped to the side as Natasha followed him, and pulled her behind him to shield her from sight. Natasha peered across the way, saw the state of the others within sight, and raised her eyebrows at Thor.

"We are in the realm of the beast," Thor said, and pressed a finger to his lips. Though Loki had shielded them, the thunderer was unwilling to chance an encounter for taking too little care with their concealment. Natasha nodded and pointed ahead; Thor shook his head and pointed behind. It was better to wait for Loki, who had seen more of this place.

Seconds passed, and turned into minutes. The time stretched on, and both of them became uneasy. Thor reached into the wall to return and find his brother – and his hand met solid stone where the portal had stood. Natasha grunted and tried as well, then pounded a fist against the stone.

_He's up to something_, she mouthed, and Thor could only agree. What else could explain the delay?

With no options available save exploration in Thanos' lair, they waited for Loki's arrival in silence.

* * *

There was nowhere to go, of course, but the trickster was unconcerned with pursuit. His tether remained, and could be hoisted at a moment's notice.

Loki chuckled to himself, and reached for a limb, now vibrating with surging power. The slightest tug, and suddenly she was there ahead of him - another tug, and she was behind, and he laughed when she ran straight into his chest with a loud yell and fell to the ground.

She scrambled to her feet and raced in the opposite direction. He herded her with shorter and shorter jumps, until she was back among her friends and backed against the limbs of the Tree. She stood trembling and staring at him. As he came nearer she turned and tried to step away - found herself blocked by his presence, and looked the other way - and then he was there, bearing down on her, and she stared up at him with wide, fearful eyes.

"Stop it," she whispered. He laughed at her.

"Even now," he rasped. "With no one left to your side - when you are alone, helpless before my birthright - even now, you dare command me."

Lynn tried to edge herself away from him, until he reached up an arm and grasped a root at her side. She was pinned on one side, and effectively pinned on the other as he reached up with his other hand to stroke her cheek.

"Such an ornery little thing," he said, a dry statement of fact fueled by little emotion. "My mother was wrong to commit you to me."

"What?" Lynn shook her head to avoid his finger, then clawed at his eyes with her nails. She could barely feel his flesh give - his skin was like stone - and then he slapped her, hard, and she collapsed with a hand over her cheek to ward off the stinging pain.

"Loki," she whispered, "please stop -"

"Is this not what you wanted, Amma Lynn?" He crouched near her and she leaned away. He reached forward and she tried to twist away from his touch - he covered her eyes and whispered, pushing the seiðr back in place with reckless precision. "I have given you what you so longed for - the blindness you earned through your own demands. Is this not what you craved?"

She twisted her face from his grasp and shielded herself with both hands.

"Thor and Natasha -"

"Are well." Loki stood, then reached down and hauled her to her feet next to him. "They serve nothing dead."

"What are you doing?" she asked. He could feel her shivering in his hand and smiled down at her, knowing she would not see it. Rather than respond, he lifted her hands above her head and tangled them within Yggdrasil itself, weaving the coils into thick knots.

"You who witnessed the death of the realms," he said, and looped her hands through the tendrils. "The in-between, too, deserves a witness to its end.

"But I am merciful - I am not Thanos. When death comes to all, you will not see it."

"You're a monster," she whispered, and neither of them acknowledged the tears streaking her dark face. She looked lovely to him then, bound and distressed, and he leaned down and kissed her. He tasted salt as he kissed her cheeks in turn.

"I am incarnate," he said.

And then he was gone.


End file.
